


Give Unto Temptation

by edawnings, pixieyutoda



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Demon!Yan An, Drinking, Fallen Angel!Wooseok, Incubus!Hyunggu, Kitsune!Yuto, M/M, Pixie!Hyojong, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-07-16 04:09:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16078103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edawnings/pseuds/edawnings, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixieyutoda/pseuds/pixieyutoda
Summary: “Wooseok wasn’t sure if this was the sign he’d been looking for. If it was, he was sure he was being punished. He had fallen from Heaven, and now he was getting punished by having a demon as his sign of hope. Yet, Wooseok still went with him.“





	1. Isolation

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all!
> 
> This is both of your authors (pixieyutoda and edawnings), and we’re really excited to get this fic up and running as our first collaboration! 
> 
> Just a few warnings before we get started: Beginning with the second chapter, there will be a fair amount of gore and darker themes, given the concept of this fic, so if you’re squeamish or prone to anything like that, I’d suggest skipping this fic!
> 
> If you aren’t, I think this work is going to be a lot of fun for everyone involved, and I hope you all enjoy.
> 
> Thank you!!

Wooseok was… alone.

In many senses of the word. Physically— and literally— he was alone. It was quite dark, where he was. There were trees around him, and the scent of pine filled his senses. The air was dry, and chill, the coldness of it biting into his hands and cheeks. It was a still sort of air, unmoving even as Wooseok made his way through the night. His feet were crunching the leaves and gravel beneath him, and other than that, there were no sounds. No animals, no traffic, no people. Not even the whir of air passing him, or the rustle of branches. He didn’t know where he was.

He was alone in the sense that he didn’t know where he was. Which meant that he didn’t know anybody, either. Not that there was anyone around, for him to know. He didn’t know much of anything. He knew he was upset. Enough so, that he was fairly certain that the quickly-freezing liquid on his cheeks were his tears. Even though he hadn’t been aware that he was crying. He knew it was nighttime. It was so dark, it looked like someone had spilled black ink across the fabric of the sky. He was in nature. Outside, among the tall trees, he felt smaller than he ever had before. He felt minuscule. Insignificant. It was cold, and quiet, and Wooseok was so alone. Devastatingly alone, when he least wanted the isolation. His hands were shaking. He didn’t want to be by himself. He was scared. He was lost. And he was so alone.

Heaven was supposed to be a utopia. That’s what it was. For the pure, the holy, the faithful. It was an everlasting moment of total perfection. But not for the imperfect. Ironic, right? Heaven was the reward given to the people who stayed true to their morals. It was happiness, the ideal world for the people who most deserved it. Hell was the punishment given to the ill-minded, the evil, and the wrong. Hell was the unfortunate punishment for the people who had done such wrong, they’d been sent into the underworld, where they were damned to suffer for the rest of eternity. It sounded too horrible to be real, but it was. Wooseok had seen thousands of humans condemned to an afterlife in Hell. Earth was literally a middle ground that served as a sort of purgatory, for the people who weren’t quite dead, yet. There were bad people, and there were good people. It was a mix of all of the classes of faith, that decided where someone would go when they finally passed on.

For Wooseok, though, this purgatory was a punishment. A place for him to be banished to, since he no longer belonged in Heaven.

It hurt, really. To grow up somewhere, to be raised somewhere, to love and cherish somewhere so much, only to leave. To be forced to leave. To be kicked out, exiled, banished. To go from having such an outstanding title, to one of disgrace, so quickly. It hurt. It hurt to know that he didn’t truly belong anywhere, or to anyone. It hurt so bad.

Now, Wooseok was no longer an angel. He was fallen. He was fallen because he was not perfect. He was not— apparently— pure, or holy, or faithful. Though he regarded himself as such, even as he trudged through the leaves and dirt. Wooseok wasn’t evil. He wasn’t a bad person. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, or cause misfortune, or make anything less than the word of Heaven. He was just… wrong. He supposed. There was no other way to explain why he was fallen, now, other than the fact that he was wrong. Unholy. Damned. It was like there had been a glitch in Heaven’s perfect system, and it was him. He was the glitch. And for that, he supposed, he’d been banished.

Wooseok was totally alone. Once he’d become fallen, it was as if he didn’t exist to any of the others. Angels were the purest form of being one could take. A fallen angel was a failure in that respect. By definition, fallen angels were sinners. They were bad enough to get kicked out of Heaven. Wooseok might as well have not existed to the rest of Heaven, other than to be seen as a mistake and a lesser being.

The percentage of people who loved Wooseok had gone from high, to low, in a matter of seconds. It had gone from high, to none at all. Zero percent. Wooseok knew no one on earth. He was wanted by no one in heaven. Hell would take him, sure, but he didn’t want that. He was afraid. He had no one. He had himself, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted that, after today. If he wasn’t good enough to be in Heaven with the rest of the angels, was it really fair he had to be stuck with himself? He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything, or anyone. He just knew he was alone. He knew he didn’t want to be alone, anymore.

Wooseok stopped walking, for a moment, so he could wipe his nose with the back of his hand. Both the temperature and the crying was making his nose run. He wanted to stop crying. It was making his sight blurry, and his face cold, and he could probably be heard sniffling and sobbing from three miles away. He had a headache from it, and he truly wanted to stop. He didn’t know if he could, though. His chest felt empty from the previous events of the day. His stomach felt empty, and he realized it was probably not only due to sadness. He was on earth, now, so he needed to eat. He needed to eat, and to stop crying. Neither of those activities were going to be so easy, at the moment. Why? Because he was lost in what seemed to be the middle of the woods. And because he had nothing at all. No one, nothing. All he had were some frozen tears on his cheeks, and shaking hands. His heart was pounding in his ears. His stomach was empty and heavy, but he somehow still managed to feel like he needed to throw up. He knew nothing would make him feel better, though.

Heaven had been good. He’d had friends, a family, a place to be wanted. He liked it there. It was bright, and comfortable, and good. Nothing ever went wrong, in Heaven. It was a flawless place. Everyone was kind, and caring, and each day was filled with blessings and love. It was the only true flawless place. Wooseok had to leave it all behind. Because he was not flawless. Flawed people could not exist in the epitome of perfection.

Wooseok realized that he was shivering. It was cold out, and all he was wearing was a white shirt and a pair of jeans. He had goosebumps on his bare arms, but no way to warm up. His skin was cold to the touch, and his tears were becoming thin coats of ice on his face. The fabric of his jeans felt like it’d been frozen, as well, and it was easy to say that he was not comfortable. He didn’t know how late it was, at night, but it was late enough for the air to be trying to freeze Wooseok from the outside, in. It might have been working. He was wearing sneakers, it seemed, but his toes felt like they were about to fall right off, from being so cold. He wasn’t sure any part of his body was even slightly warm, at the moment. All of him, including his insides, and his thoughts, felt cold and dry, exactly like the still air surrounding him. Perhaps the shaking of his hands had to do with his shivering. If not, it was because he was crying rather hard, and he felt such a sadness deep in the pit of his stomach, that his hands were trying to shake it off for him. He wanted to tell his hands that it wasn’t working.

Wooseok wondered if regular humans enjoyed being alone. Most angels didn’t, and if they did, it was because they were enjoying something else. Did humans enjoy being alone? Was it peaceful, to them? Wooseok supposed there were many variations of being alone. There was being alone because you wanted to read, or gaze at the stars, or enjoy something you kept close to your heart. There was wanting to be alone because you were angry, or sad, or anxious. There was wanting to be alone so you could cry without the eyes of someone else on you. There was being alone so you could stretch and bask in the sun’s loving rays. There was being alone because you felt like the whole world was falling apart around your feet. There was being alone, even if you didn’t want to, because the whole world you knew no longer accepted you, or wanted anything to do with you.

Wooseok figured he was a mixture of the latter two. He didn’t feel well. He felt alone. More than alone, though, he felt lonely. Alone was physical. He was physically alone. Lonely was much more than that, though. Lonely was the absence of the moon, the absence of heat on an ice cold night. Loneliness was the shaking of Wooseok’s fingertips, and the ice that seemed to streak his cheeks. Loneliness was the numbness of his lips, and the salt water running down the back of his throat. Loneliness was a hollow feeling in Wooseok’s chest. And Wooseok was lonely. So lonely, he could feel the pain residing in his very being, and making his whole body feel heavy.

He wondered if there were other people on earth who could relate to what he was feeling, alone in the woods.

There was no moonlight, tonight. It was a new moon, so the only source of light were the stars. Wooseok could barely see where he was going, but it didn’t really matter. Even if he could see, he wouldn’t know where he was going. Didn’t know where he could go. There was no place on earth in which he belonged to.

Wooseok wanted to cry. He already was, but he wished he could stop. Mostly so he could start up, again. He couldn’t help but to cry. He wished there was some way to express how much he truly, truly hurt, other than to cry. But there was nothing. Everything he knew and believed in had just been kicked out from underneath him, and it was his fault. It was all his fault.

He might as well have been human, now. Since he was fallen, he didn’t know if he had any of his angelic abilities left, or anything. He didn’t have anything against humans, of course, but it was a distinct step down from where he had been, just earlier today. Humans weren’t exactly known for being moral. Wooseok couldn’t classify himself as moral, either, anymore. It could have been worse, Wooseok figured. He could have been banished straight away to Hell, where he’d be forced to live as some sort of sick, angel-turned-demon. He didn’t want that at all. He didn’t know if there was any downgrade that was more drastic than that, but he didn’t think there was. Demons were the opposite of angels. Everyone knew that. At least Wooseok wasn’t one of them.

An owl hooted, and Wooseok nearly jumped out of his own skin. He didn’t like being alone, at night like this. The air was too still. He didn’t know this location at all. The owl was the first sound he’d heard all night, that he hadn’t made himself. After he quit being so jumpy about it, he realized that the owl sort of relieved him, in a way. It reminded him that he wasn’t the only being on this earth, even if it felt like he was. He was glad. At least he wasn’t the only person in earth. That was a punishment Wooseok wasn’t sure he was mentally strong enough for.

Wooseok’s crying slowly simmered down to a stop. He was still sniffling, but more because of the cold, than his emotions. Tears were no longer raining down onto his skin. He could feel how puffy his eyes were, and it sort of felt better with the coolness of the air. His eyelashes were heavy and wet, dotting moisture atop his cheeks. His face felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, but at least he wasn’t crying, anymore. He had to keep reminding himself that no matter how horrible he felt, alone and cold in the middle of the woods, it could be worse. Not by much. But it could be.

Fallen. Wooseok couldn’t believe he was fallen. He was the type of person who enjoyed being told what to do, and enjoyed following the rules. He didn’t like straying far from the path, especially when it came to his morals, and what he was supposed to do. He had always been faithful, and simple, and a follower. He wasn’t rebellious. He didn’t care for doing what he wasn’t supposed to, or what someone didn’t want him to do, or especially what was wrong. He was a good person. He believed that. Or, he’d believed that up until today. He’d never tried to be a rebel. Yet, somehow, here he was. He was on earth right now, because he’d rebelled against Heaven, and what was right, and because of that, he’d been exiled. He couldn’t believe it, still. For the first little bit, he was in total shock. He had never thought that he’d be the person to get removed from Heaven. He’d always been such a good follower. He’d never wanted to do anything wrong. He’d never wanted to be wrong.

The events of the past day had all happened in a monotone blur. He’d been in Heaven. Like he always was, living the way he’d lived for over twenty years. Then, he’d confessed. Something had been on his mind for so long, and he’d feared the meaning of it. So, he’d confessed. And then he’d been kicked out of his own home, for what he’d said. He’d told them something he absolutely could not help, or control, and he’d gotten no time to think things through before he was being exiled to the purgatory that was earth. And now he was here. In the moonless, dead night.

The stars shone, but Wooseok didn’t feel their light at all. They seemed to mock him. The stars were all in Heaven, together, pure. And Wooseok was walking along a dirt path in the middle of the woods, an abomination. The lack of a Moon was more fitting to Wooseok, since there was obviously something he was lacking. What was it? It wasn’t faith. It wasn’t morality. Perhaps it was purity. Perhaps Wooseok wasn’t as pure as he’d always claimed and known to be. It made sense. Someone truly pure couldn’t get shoved down to the earth, like he was nothing more than sin personified. He tried so hard to be good, though. He really did.

Wooseok’s skin felt akin to a frozen river. His insides felt the same way. Cold, frozen, unmoving. He wondered which his heart would stop beating of, first: the cold, or his despair. He wondered when it would happen. If it were the latter, he figured it couldn’t be too far away. Maybe it was what he deserved.

Wooseok had never been one for being alone. He slept alone, got dressed alone, read alone. He seldom ate alone. But he had never been lonely. He was a single droplet of water, dripping down a mirror, so he could see his own, desperate reflection. An insignificant droplet of water, that contributed nothing to a river, or an ocean. He was a droplet of water that stood on reflective glass. Wooseok was lonely. He hated being alone. He felt vulnerable, like anything in these woods could harm him, because he wasn’t much more than a mere human. He couldn’t protect himself, at this point. Didn’t know if he wanted to. Regardless of how much bigger he was than most creatures, he was feeling weak. He needed to eat, and get somewhere warm, or he’d waste away. He was so sad, he really felt that he could have wasted away.

He didn’t like being alone. He was worried, and uneasy. He was scared. It was dark. He was the only person in these woods, and if he wasn’t, he feared why. These woods were no place to be, so late into the night. Wooseok just wanted to see another person. He needed some symbol of hope. After everything that had happened today, he needed some beacon of light to guide him out of this misery, and remind him that he was more than a sick droplet of water. He wanted warmth, and strength, and faith. Anything. Any symbol of hope he could take. He just needed a sign. If there was any hope left in Wooseok’s life, he needed something to show him that. Right now, he couldn’t muster up the power to believe in much of anything.

Wooseok needed to know that he wasn’t worthless, for being kicked out of Heaven.

He’d take any sign. A pair of white shoes. The hoot of another owl, or the howl of a wolf. A shooting star. A light. A laugh. A presence. He really would take anything, right about now, and run with it, Like is life depended on it. It felt like his life did depend on it. Because Wooseok knew, no matter how he looked at it, this sign he hoped for was all he had.

Wooseok was alone. Lonely.

The air was still, and freezing. Wooseok felt like he could give into the air and let it freeze him where he existed.

The sky was hauntingly dark, no moon in sight. Just the mocking of a thousand tiny stars.

His skin felt like ice, from the tip of his nose, to the tips of his toes. He could have been freezing to death.

He was crying, again. The warmest places on his whole body were his tear ducts, fueled by Wooseok’s incurable sadness. His tears were freezing to his white shirt. His tears were freezing, but they didn’t cease. His throat was tight.

The place where his heart should have been felt empty, instead filled with an air equally as cold as the air that enveloped him.

His stomach hurt with how devastated he was, and it made it heavy for him. Hard for him to breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He was too broken.

His whole world was gone. He’d fallen from it. He was fallen, now. He had nothing. He was nothing. He believed in nothing.

Wooseok’s life was irreparable.

Miserable, shattered, awful.

All Wooseok asked for was a sign.

Just one, simple sign.

Anything.

And then he saw him. 


	2. Worth

yanan has always liked playing games. not with cards or dice, but with people. mind games were his favorite kind and it brought him a delight unlike any other. being able to bend someone at his will after taking his time to carefully wrap his web around them, backing them up until they were stumbling right into his trap. seeing the look on their faces as he broke them apart. 

 

it’s been years since he started wandering this earth, fiftythree to be precise and he hadn’t grown tired of it yet. humans are so vulnerable, in every sense of the word. they are soft, malleable, easy to rip apart and tear into shreds. they are easily swayed, easy to play with. they are so domesticated, unlike yanan, (trying to tame him would essentially be like putting a leash on a lion). and they care too much about trivial things like love and money and not enough about being cunning, surviving. they aren’t predators, though some do fit the mold. 

 

too many of them were tainted, dirty on the inside, feeding into their own selfish desires, making excuses for why it was right. at some point he had taken it upon himself to resolve that. yanan saw it as taking out the trash, disposing of the filth that was allowed to roam free. 

 

yanan’s face flickered with unabashed disgust, frowning down at the face of his victim. she was screaming at the top of her lungs, voice starting to go croaky with the effort, and it was awfully annoying. not that anyone would hear her anyway, through the thick trees, far enough away from civilization. he was getting tired of playing this round, knowing he already won. 

 

he shushed her, cooing, rubbing a large hand gently over her hair, and she silenced momentarily with a choked gasp, a glimmer of hope shining in her eyes. 

 

_ ah sweet bliss _ , he thought to himself, before plunging a hand into her mouth, ripping her tongue clean out. she struggled underneath him, trying to claw at him, anything to get him off. he didn’t budge an inch. it was pathetic. she laid there choking on her own blood, head banging harshly against the grass. it made him chuckle just a little.

 

yanan didn’t kill because it was ‘fun’. maybe it was in the beginning but now he’s too used to it. to watching the life fade from someone’s eyes like a light bulb bursting, their heartbeat forever fading from existence. 

 

it was the fear that satisfied him. 

 

yanan knew how to be convincing, sickly sweet to get people to trust him, until they were walking into the lion’s den themselves. he needn’t push them from behind, they would do it all on their own. all he had to do was smile, make his voice saccharine and soft until they were dripping in it, eyes glazed over as if they had been hypnotized. when he had them where he wanted them he attacked. he liked watching the realization click in their minds, the revelation that they had given themselves up to someone, something so demonic. 

 

he liked seeing their eyes get wide like a deer in headlights, stuttering, gasping for forgiveness with every step he took closer. he liked seeing them break into a cold sweat, shuddering, pleading for their lives. he felt invincible in that moment, their lives in his hands. 

 

but they didn’t deserve to live. the girl under him was one of the less malicious he had seen this month. he had found her kicking a stray dog in the side with her heel, a large contrast to the pedophile he had castrated the previous tuesday. 

 

but yanan needed a release, and quickly peeking into her mind he could see that she had cheated on her boyfriend more times than she could count. that was enough for him. 

 

the fight in her was dying down, he could see it, eyes rolling back into her head. he scoffed, sending one harsh crack of his fist against her chest stopping her heart completely. 

 

some might find it contradictory, a demon killing humans that he considered evil. yanan had seen pure evil in hell, covered in fire and melted corpses, hellhounds with faces as tall as he stood. the evil that lurked on earth was something else entirely. not as powerful or forceful but heavy, still revolting even to him. 

 

yanan had spent his first ten years on earth just studying the world around him, reading every book in the libraries close to him, observing human life. he had wanted to know why humans lived they way they did. what was so appealing about a nine to five job and a wife and kids, he couldn’t quite understand it. 

 

he had soon realized it was their way of survival. where he was from souls mattered most. here on earth, money made the world go round and he had learned there were all kinds of standards, all kinds of things that you could BE. a firefighter, a teacher, a chef, a singer, an actor, there seemed to be roles for everyone. and you had to pick one or you were considered hopeless. 

 

thinking about hell gave him headaches still, piercing ones that felt like lighting was rippling through his temples to his brain. it was still hard at times to think about everything that he had seen. blood curdling screams echoed through his dreams at night, he’d wake up too hot under his sheets, skin burning. sometimes he wished he could get rid of the memories, start new, act like a normal human, play pretend. though nothing is ever that easy. 

 

he was reminded of hell when he saw her blood coating his hands, staining his gray t-shirt and black jeans, huffing irritatedly. he actually quite liked these jeans. he had gotten them for a steal, at a goodwill near his favorite bar. just because he was a demon didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate a good thrift. 

 

his head popped up quickly at the sound of footsteps to his right, eyes flashing red, not bothering to hide the body sprawled beside him. peeking through the shrubbery came a man, couldn’t be any older than 20, baby faced like a cherub. 

 

yanan tilted his head and squinted hard like he was trying to read a snellen chart at an optometrist’s office. the air fluttered with a tension that hadn’t been there before, wind picking up, the leaves swaying with it. there was an aura around him that was familiar, too pure, too clean the way newborn babies’ souls felt, the way...angels felt. like he could cut him open and baby powder and fresh roses would spill out. 

 

the angel’s eyes locked onto him, darting all over, taking in the blood on his hands, the puddle leaking under body next to him. it slid deep and thick through the grass, a little crimson pool. his body shut down completely for a few seconds. from across the clearing yanan could see his legs start to shake and knew it wasn’t because of the cold. he watched as they completely gave out and the angel collapsed onto the ground, petrified and frozen like a big block of ice. 

 

he wasn’t small by any means, all long long legs and lanky arms, seeming just as tall as yanan was. but he looked so tiny, curled up in a ball, doe eyes wide open with fear. he looked sick almost, turning an ash grey color, little beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. yanan came to the realization that he had most likely never seen a dead body before and even so, never one so bloody. a newly fallen angel seeing death right in front of their eyes so soon after landing on earth, he couldn’t really fathom it himself. all he’s ever known is death, chaos and disruption. he had never seen anything so pure. 

 

which lead him to his next thought, what was an angel, especially one with a soul so clean, doing on earth? he was shivering still, too scared to attempt clambering away as yanan stepped in his direction, crouching in front of him. 

 

“hey kid,” yanan snapped his fingers in front of his face, like trying to get an excited puppy’s attention. his eyes were hazy but finally started to focus, little stammers leaving his lips at yanan being so close. 

 

“p-please don’t k-kill-l me please…” he was repeating over and over, lips almost blue and yanan cursed under his breath. the boy was only wearing a t-shirt for god’s sake. “pl-ease i o-only just started living but i don’t wanna die yet please.” 

 

“hey kid!” he said louder, making him go quiet with a peep, “just shut up for a second.” 

 

“what the hell are you doing down here?” yanan inquired, catching his big eyes wandering behind him, distracted, and he didn’t even have to look back as her body lit up, fire dancing between his fingertips still. “is that better? answer my question.” 

 

“w-what are you?” he asked shakily, and yanan could see the reflection of the flames dancing in his eyes. 

 

“i’m the boogieman.” yanan teased, doing a wiggly thing with his fingers that was definitely more creepy with the blood that was drying on them. 

 

“i don’t know what that is.” the angel whispered. yanan sighed, he could have only fallen a few hours ago or less, still extremely fresh to the mysteries and corruptions of the world. his soul felt like a blank canvas, with maybe one dot of red paint, an accident. he reminded yanan of succulent fruit not yet ripe, a cherry too easily burst. 

 

yanan just stared at him and the angel stared back for as long as he could before he became utterly terrified again, breaking eye contact with a gasp. he could tell the angel wasn’t going to talk, too scared, not just of yanan but of everything. 

 

he shrugged and stood to leave, knowing he had tried his best at least. see yanan could have lit the angel up like a christmas tree, ripped his spine out through his mouth in a second. instead he had tried to talk to him, maybe even help him. it felt weird, with blood covering his shirt, squeaky under his shoes. he could never explain it to his friends, they would laugh and claim he was going soft. he began to walk away, snubbing out the fire he had started with a look, a pile of ashes in the space where the body had been. 

 

“wait!” 

 

he looked over his shoulder, the angel wobbly pushing himself up, eyes big and pleading. “you n-never told me what you are.” it looked like he was five seconds away from pouting, hands wringing the fabric of his oversized shirt. there was a deliberate glint in his eyes like he had a good idea of what was crawling under yanan’s skin, like it was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t be too sure. 

 

“and you never told me what you’re doing here.” yanan retorted, raising an eyebrow, “but if you wanna know so bad,” 

 

he felt his eyes roll up, coming back down pure black, no pupils or irises, just deep black pools made to suck people in. he smiled cheekily, “that answer your question?”

 

“you’re a demon.” the angel murmured, more in awe and less panicked, watching his eyes go back to normal. 

 

“got in one, angel face,” yanan winked, couldn’t tell if his teasing was helping or harming. “now answer mine or at least tell me your name.” he made his voice buttery smooth, the voice he used to slip people right into his clutches. 

 

“wooseok.” it sounded light on his lips, a mere gasp of air. “ and there isn’t much to tell,” he hesitated, voice wobbly like even thinking about it hurt, and it made yanan more eager to know. 

 

his knowledge of heaven wasn’t small, in fact, he knew more than just the basics. on earth, heaven was seen as something like a golden ticket, an everlasting paradise for anyone who served god and repent their sins. 

 

christianity was all bullshit to yanan, not just because he was a demon but because it made no sense to him. but it was easy to believe that there were people who dedicated their whole lives to this ‘higher power’, a dude in a white robe and long beard as the stereotypes described, to guide them step by step. he could believe it because the world was cruel, it wasn’t made to please everyone, to give everyone a happy ending. life isn’t a crossword puzzle, it’s a maze. 

 

losing your job, having a falling out with someone, giving your soul up to a demon, you’re being plagued every day by the unpredictable variables of your life. it seems so much easier to have that power to pray to and confide in, to trust and shepherd you along. to let go of all responsibility and put your life in his hands. 

 

point being, everyone believes in something.

 

during yanan’s 23rd year on earth he sat and only watched supernatural movies and tv shows, wrinkling his nose at all the outplayed cliches and conventional standards. he read hundreds of books from other cultures, stories about ghosts and woodland spirits, vampires and werewolves ** _._**

 

humans loved the supernatural, the belief that there were other creatures lurking in the night, faster, stronger, more bloodthirsty than them. like  _ demons _ .  his own existence was somewhat of an enigma, a conundrum yanan couldn’t even explain. all he knew was that one day he had opened his eyes and everything had been ruby, dark and sticky. something flowing through his chest red hot like a brand, molten lava zipping through his veins. 

 

he couldn’t judge humans for believing, investing their lives in ‘god’s word’. yanan didn’t have any answers. he didn’t have a higher power to pray to. he didn’t need one. but he understood why some did. 

 

humans were like sheep, all flocking to the newest trend, newest technology, brands, interested in whatever was made to keep them distracted. of course they believed in god. they believed in everything, the believed in too much. and they had too much hope. 

 

_ of course _ they were hoping for a happy ending. the pearly gates opening wide and accepting them into utopia forever was the ultimate finish line. like running a race, winning first place and getting ice cream afterwards. the thought of heaven was like thousands of lifetimes of gold medals and mint chocolate chip. at least to yanan. 

 

“tell me.” yanan coaxed, making his eyes big and shiny, the night sky’s brightest stars shining in them. 

 

“but you’re a demon,” wooseok cautioned, letting himself plop back onto the freezing ground, head in his hands. “demons are sinful a-and corrupt.” his voice was almost a whisper, muffled into his large palms. 

 

“and you killed that girl!” 

 

“yeah i am and yes i did,” yanan jeered, raising an eyebrow, “but i can’t be all that bad, i only kill people who deserve it. and i haven’t killed you yet have i?” 

 

“no.” wooseok sniffled, rubbing at his red nose, cheeks flushed pink with the cold. “but i shouldn’t be talking to you.” 

 

“well who else are you going to talk to?” 

 

he seemed to think about that very seriously, blinking down at his own lap and yanan could smell the salty tears before he saw them, dripping down his pale face. 

 

“no one,” and that’s when he broke, face crumpling with sobs, “i don’t have anyone. i’m all alone.” 

 

“tell me.” yanan said one last time, and it was genuine, observing as the angel wiped his tears but it was pointless, new ones fell soon after. his eyes were already red-rimmed, bottom lip stuck out the slightest bit like he couldn’t help it. the more he looked at him the more he looked like a baby deer, all big eyes and skittish. 

 

his lips trembled, “i got banished from heaven,” it started off slow and soft, wooseok’s voice saturated in distress like ripping a bandage off a fresh wound. “and now i’m stuck here a-and i don’t have anyone, i don’t know anything about earth, give me 2 days and i’ll be stranded out here being eaten by wild bears or something.” he hiccuped. 

 

“i made a mistake, i  _ am  _ a mistake and now i’m here! to rot amongst that human you just killed and i deserve it!” 

 

“this is my punishment.” his voice started to rise, like he was bursting at the seams, finally getting it all off of his chest. “i’m a failure! i’m d-damned and nobody wants me anymore.” his voice got quiet at the end and sad, so sad. “nobody’s ever going to want me now.”  

 

“why do you think that?” yanan’s tone was steady, coaxing wooseok to continue his ramblings. with each sentence there was some sort of light returning to the younger’s eyes and he wondered how long he had wandered around with no one to talk to. 

 

and maybe yanan wasn’t the best company for a newly fallen angel but he was the only company. the only ‘person’ around for miles that would listen. 

 

“i’m worthless.” he said simply, like that explained everything. yanan couldn’t quite understand it, hell would be bubbling over, exploding with merriment to have a soul like wooseok’s. a blank canvas to cover in blood and disarray, to wreck. humans would be tripping over themselves to catch a glance at the angel, his soft aura calling them in like a siren’s song. he glanced at his face, his strong jaw and plump lips, shaking his head in disagreement.  

 

“you’re measuring your own value at the hands of someone else’s.” yanan sighed deeply, “take away heaven, take away god, take away you being an angel. what are you then?” 

 

“nothing.” wooseok whispered, “i’m just nothing with no purpose.” 

 

“no you’re someone.” the demon corrected, ready to roll his eyes at himself. here he was sitting in the woods giving an angel a pep talk, a speech about how to live when yanan kills people, reads books, and drinks a lot (never enough) for a living. but he could tell his words meant something to wooseok, that they were getting through the slightest bit, so he continued on. 

 

“you’re your own person, you can make your own decisions, find something more to life than heaven and being an angel. you’re here now, that’s not going to change. so why don’t you try?” yanan bit his lip, crossing his arms across his chest. “come with me and i’ll show you.” 

 

“if i come with you, you’ll kill me.” wooseok huffed, giving him a look of ‘i’m not that stupid.’

 

“if i wanted to kill you i would’ve done it already.” yanan did roll his eyes that time, ignoring his surliness. “and in case you forgot, you’re in the middle of the woods by yourself with absolutely nothing to get you out. and i heard your stomach growl twice in the past two minutes. i’m your best bet, kid.” 

 

yanan could see everything flash past his face at once, a jumble of expressions, mixed emotions. the fear, the hesitation, the contemplation but one thing won out in the end. 

 

wooseok was alone. and though he had watched the demon set a dead body aflame, looking into the deep black abysses of his eyes. he was alone and yanan was the only person who could remedy that. 

 

loneliness is a scary thing. yanan’s seen a lot of humans who do crazy, crazy things because they’re lonely. a month ago, he stabbed a man through his eyeball, pulling the organ right out with a sickening pop! that man had murdered his best friend, round and pregnant with child because he wanted her and couldn’t have her. was so in love, and lonely and crazy that he thought if he couldn’t have her, no one else could. not even her unborn daughter.  

 

people go insane when they are left alone for too long. he’s read up on psych wards, on patients in straight jackets stuck between padded walls. no one to talk to, no human contact, not even seeing the sun. being alone for too long could make anyone crazy. yanan didn’t want that for wooseok. 

 

the angel was so pure, confused, coated in innocence unlike anything yanan had ever seen before. he didn’t know what to call it, how to explain the urge he had to cover him up and hide him away. yanan’s seen evil, scarlet red and hovering, lurking in the shadows for a chance to strike. yanan’s  _ been  _ that evil. wooseok isn’t damned but yanan will be if he gives anyone else the chance to try and make him. 

 

when he held out his hand to the angel, wooseok took it. his hands were still freezing cold but it was like he was starting to thaw, like a popsicle on a summer’s day. it’s messy and you have to eat it fast so it doesn’t drip down the side of your hands onto your clothes. wooseok was like that, all soft and gooey and emotional. he watched the angel sniffle once more and pull himself up with a little nod. 

 

they started their way through the dark clearing and the stars twinkled a little brighter above them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is the first collaboration both of us have worked on, we’d really appreciate it if you left kudos, a bookmark, or especially a comment, telling us how you feel about this new fic!! Comments let us know what you’re feeling, and encourage us to write more!
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and we hope to see all of you when we get our next update posted!!
> 
> Instagram:
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> pixieyutoda - roseyuto  
> edawnings- woooseook
> 
> ♡♡♡


	3. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After little over a month, we are finally back with a new chapter! I'm sorry it took me so long, but since it is quite a bit longer than the previous chapters, I hope it balances out. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I'm excited to see where pixieyutoda and I are going to take this story, as we get more into it.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and enjoy!

Wooseok didn’t know why he did it.

 

He didn’t know why he went with him—  _ the demon _ . Maybe it was because he had nothing better to do. He was lost. He was cold, and potentially starving, and he was sad. He was looking for a sign. In a twisted, odd way, Wooseok figured that this was it.

 

When Wooseok first saw him, he realized that he had reason to be afraid of the woods, like he had suspected. He was standing up straight, his chest heaving with breaths. His coal black hair was catching the dim, cool light of the stars. A few strands were sticking to his forehead with sweat, right above his shapely eyebrows. His skin was alabaster pale, like the colour the moon would have been, had it been in the sky. His eyes were so dark, they matched the colourless sky, staring right at Wooseok like he were a small, wounded animal. His lips were turned down, regarding Wooseok with little care. There were deep, dark flecks of liquid on his face. It was speckled across his face like crimson stars splattered on cream-coloured satin. Some of it was smeared against his cheek, where he’d obviously wiped at some of it with his hand.

 

Wooseok knew what it was. Wooseok knew it was blood. He was in the middle of the woods, crying until he felt dizzy, standing in front of a moon-like man who was covered in blood. The hot, metallic scent of it flooded Wooseok’s nostrils. Surely, all of that couldn’t be coming off of him, right? The man’s dark eyes flickered down, the whites of them barely catching the light. Wooseok’s eyes followed the other man’s. There was a body lying on the ground. She was mangled, face down facing the dead sky, covered in more blood than Wooseok thought possible. She  _ reeked _ of blood. He realized, with a deafening chill, that she was dead. She was dead. This was a dead body. And the man standing above her looked completely unaffected.

 

Wooseok was afraid. This wasn’t the sign he had been asking for. He’d needed a symbol of hope. Instead, he got a symbol that he might be murdered in the middle of the woods. He was going to be  _ murdered _ . His hands shook. His knees gave out. He was shivering, worse than ever, but he’d forgotten the chill of the night air. He felt like he was going to throw up.

 

The man  _ spoke _ to him. He didn’t kill Wooseok. That was a plus, Wooseok supposed. He still could have, but there was something weirdly soothing about his voice. Wooseok didn’t know what he’d expected, but when the man’s voice came out gentle, like a trickle of water, Wooseok was shocked. Someone who had just bloodily murdered a woman should have had a less gentle voice, something bone-chilling. A voice that would make Wooseok want to run for his life. But this man’s voice was soft. Dainty. Breathy and still tinkling, the opposite of the way he’d first looked, standing over that body. His voice was still cold, but not in a sharp way. Just cool, like a breeze. Wooseok didn’t know why, but it felt like he’d just gotten slapped across the face.

 

And then the man set the dead body on fire. And Wooseok  _ knew _ . Flames erupted. Finally, after all of his oblivious wandering in the woods, Wooseok knew  _ something _ . He didn’t quite know what it was he knew, staring into the white-hot burning of the flames. Walking through the woods, Wooseok was more alone than he could have ever imagined. He was still alone. But Wooseok knew that lighting something on fire without the proper,  _ human _ materials was not natural. Which meant that this person was not human. Wooseok wasn’t human. Wooseok had gone from knowing  _ nothing _ , and  _ no one _ , to having something just a little bit familiar, right in front of him. Wooseok knew the unnatural. He was a fallen angel. He  _ was _ the unnatural. As awful as this person was, whatever he was happened to be familiar to Wooseok. The man’s eyes had been flooded with an inky black tone, and it had all been revealed: he was a demon.

 

Wooseok wasn’t sure if this was the sign he’d been looking for. If it was, he was sure he was being punished. He had fallen from Heaven, and now he was getting punished by having a demon as his sign of hope. Yet, Wooseok still went with him.

 

After spilling out all—well, most— of his thoughts. Wooseok had been dwelling on his new title as a fallen angel, since the moment he’d woken up on earth, in a cold sweat of anxiety and despair. He’d let the thoughts and the sadness fester in his brain like an exposed wound. Crying hadn’t helped; he was convinced  _ nothing _ could help him stop feeling as miserable as he was. He was sure he was a disgrace. Disgusting. He was being punished, just like the evil always were. No one wanted him. He belonged no where. So, he let it all come out. He couldn’t really hold back, even though he knew he shouldn’t have been talking to a demon about something as complicated as Heaven. But the demon was right— Wooseok was all alone. So he let the demon in on everything Wooseok had been through, both physically and emotionally. He cried, sobbed, until his throat was raw. Surprisingly, he felt a little bit lighter after saying everything out loud. He couldn’t believe himself. Talking to a demon. That was the level of loneliness he had reached.

 

And he went with him. He went with the demon.

 

“Come on, kid,” the demon said, tugging on Wooseok’s outstretched hand. Wooseok was sure he couldn’t trust this demon. He was a  _ demon _ . Demons were vile, evil creatures. That was one of the first things Wooseok could ever remember being taught. The demon shot Wooseok a look, turning away to drag the taller man through the woods. Wooseok’s stumbled behind him, the cold making it hard for him to move his limbs. The demon was right: this was Wooseok’s best bet of surviving.

 

He could keep up with the other man easily, thanks to his long legs. The demon was almost as tall as him, though, so he was easily taking long strides through the woods, gently jerking at Wooseok’s arm. Wooseok took a deep breath, trying to shake off the tears he’d just shed, for what seemed like so long. “Where are we going?” He asked shakily. He wasn’t going to get killed, right? The demon said he wasn’t going to, but lying was what demons  _ did _ . Maybe this was just the demon’s plot to get Wooseok somewhere else, so he could kill him off. Regardless, Wooseok kept walking alongside the demon.

 

For some reason, he felt less scared than he had been, when he was alone.

 

The demon’s dark eyes travelled from Wooseok’s face, down to his feet. Then, all the way back up, again. He raised his eyebrows. “Jesus Christ, you’re tall,” is all turning his gaze forward.

 

Wooseok could hear crickets chirping all around them, and branches snapping under their feet. Wooseok felt his eyebrows furrow. “You’re almost as tall as me,” he pointed out. He didn’t know if he was really considered tall, here on earth. He did know that this demon was only a small percentage shorter than he was. He shook his head, trying to keep his mind on track. “Where are you taking me?”

 

The demon rolled his eyes with a loud sigh. He stopped in his tracks, turning to look at the angel. He let go of Wooseok’s hand, letting it drop back to his side. “Do you want to die out here, alone in the woods?” he asked, a bite to his words.

 

Wooseok’s fingertips were so cold, they were numb. The demon’s hand had been rather warm. “I don’t want to die at all,” he said. He didn’t want to die. As awful as his condition and situation were, at the moment, he couldn’t die. Mostly because he didn’t know where he would go. He’d already gotten kicked out of Heaven, so he doubted he’d be able to go there, if he died. He didn’t know if he was wrong enough to go to Hell. At least, he hoped not.  _ Could _ he die? He didn’t know. He didn’t know where else he could go, besides Heaven and Hell. So, he couldn’t die.

 

The demon kept walking. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that.” His eyes flickered to Wooseok’s face. He was wearing a short sleeved grey t-shirt, the collar of it snug at the base of his neck. It was grey, so Wooseok could see all of the blood speckled up it. His jeans, on the other hand, were black, so all the substance was doing was making the fabric appear wet and shiny. Wooseok was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and he was fairly certain he was going to freeze to death. This demon didn’t seem to even notice the cold, much less mind it. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already. Why would I go through the hassle of walking you through the woods, when I could have just killed you where I killed that girl?”

 

Wooseok didn’t know what to say to that, and his stomach was twisting at the thought of the dead girl. The demon had said that she’d deserved it. He’d explained everything, and his way of thinking. Wooseok knew what he was trying to get across. But murder was still murder, and remembering her dead, quickly cooling body was making Wooseok’s empty stomach churn. “Alright.”

 

He didn’t doubt that the demon  _ could _ kill him. Wooseok may have been slightly taller, but he was not strong. He was thin, and shivering so hard his stomach muscles hurt. On top of that, he hadn’t eaten anything, and he only had so much body fat to keep him functional. If he didn’t starve to death first, he was going to freeze. He wasn’t even sure the demon would  _ get _ the chance to try to murder him. He was too cold to really be able to move well. If he tried to move too swiftly, his limbs would likely break off, like the tip of a frail icicle. If the demon attacked him, there would be very little Wooseok would be able to do to fight back.

 

“How long have you been here?” the man asked, stepping over a large branch. His legs were long, similar to Wooseok’s but the demon seemed to have more muscle definition. Wooseok really was thin. No wonder he was shivering so hard.

 

“As in, his long has it been since I fell, or how old am I?” the angel asked.

 

The demon shrugged. “Either or,” he said. From the side, Wooseok could really tell how pouty his downturned lips were. They were thick, and they made him look— not quite unhappy, but rather neutral. Bored. Little more than the man’s silhouette was visible, in the light of the moonless night. Wooseok probably looked sad and scared. It was appropriate.

 

Wooseok tried to get his teeth to stop chattering. “I’m twenty years old. And I fell today.” Wooseok felt his throat tighten up at the subject, so he cleared his throat. “I don’t know what time, I just woke up and I was on earth. It’s been dark the whole time, though.” More realistically, Wooseok woke up in a cold sweat, feeling like his body had just been dropped off of a tower. He supposed that wasn’t too inaccurate of a description, but it really wasn’t comfortable. As soon as he’d woken up, he knew exactly what had happened. He was repenting for his sin. His sins. He didn’t know. He just knew that it hurt.

 

His chest felt hollow, yet heavy. As if someone had scooped out his heart, and his soul, and replaced it with a ton of cold, smooth marbles. So much had happened, and he was only in the process of taking everything in. He wondered if he was still in shock.

 

The demon’s eyebrows raised. “You’re only twenty?” Yanan asked, a mocking tone in his gentle voice. “Do angels age like humans? Or do you live like a million years, looking young and hot forever.”

 

Wooseok pursed his lips. For one, he was cold. “I’m twenty human years old.” He didn’t know how else he was supposed to respond to a question like that. The demon was confusing.

 

The demon snorted. “Only twenty?” he asked. “Let me just say, I am a hell of a lot older than you, pun intended. No wonder you’re so pure and cute;  you’re just a baby.”

 

Wooseok bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. He knit his eyebrows, glancing at the demon. “How old are you?” If Wooseok was young, how old did that make the demon? He didn’t think he was  _ that _ young, at least in terms of human age.

 

The demon pushed a branch out of their way. “It’s complicated,” he said simply. They both had to duck under some trees to avoid the leaves and branches scraping at their faces. “I’ve been on earth for fifty three years, but I was alive before that. I don’t really know how time works, in Hell.”

 

The taller man nodded in understanding. “Oh,” he said. “I don’t, either.” Wooseok didn’t know much about Hell. He knew it was for the evil, sinners, demons. He knew it was a horrible, terrifying place. He knew it was the opposite of Heaven, which meant that Wooseok was naturally very averted to it.

 

The demon gave a short, huffed laugh, throwing Wooseok an odd smirk. “Of course you don’t, angel face. You’re a sweet, little— tall as fuck— boy. You’ve only sinned, what, once now?”

 

Wooseok’s eyes threatened to prickle with tears, when he remembered the precious events of the day. It felt like he had fallen so, so long ago, but it’d only been what Wooseok figured were a few hours. But it stung all the same. It hurt like he had just fallen, the same sort of pain as the numbness at the tip of his nose. It hurt like ice was spreading through his chest, freezing over his internal organs, making his blood move slow, turning into ice crystals. He cleared his throat. He did  _ not _ want to cry, again. “I guess it counts as more than once. I don’t know.” He took a deep inhale. The frigidness of the air hurt his nose and his throat, when he breathed. To be completely honest, there wasn’t a whole lot of Wooseok that  _ wasn’t _ hurting. “I would rather not talk about it.”

 

“Fine, but you know, I don’t judge.” The demon clicked his tongue loudly. His hair fell over his face so Wooseok could barely see the glint of his dark eyes. “Sinning is sort of my thing.”

 

It wasn’t Wooseok’s, though. “Alright,” Wooseok said quietly. If he talked about it now, he would end up crying. His goal was to not freeze to death, and he knew that wouldn’t help. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“Whatever,” the demon sighed. “You do you, honey.”

 

Wooseok took another couple of steps, and he was standing on concrete. There was a street light to his right, the demon on his left. “We’re out of the woods,” he said, more in awe, than anything. After all of his meaningless wandering, he was out of the woods. On an unoccupied street, but nonetheless. At least he was out of the woods.

 

The street light gave off a marigold glow, painting the demon’s face in honey and amber sheens. This was the first time Wooseok could properly see the demon’s face, now that there was more light that just the stars. Wooseok felt his throat tighten up again, but this time it wasn’t out of fear. He didn’t know what it was.

 

The demon had dark eyes, staring right at Wooseok. They were piercing, and sharp, and they gave Wooseok more chills than the night air ever could. They were eyes that had witnessed just about every evil deed known to mankind, and there was something about that that made Wooseok’s skin crawl with fear and curiosity. His nose was straight, his cheekbones high, and his jaw sharp. His lips were round, a dark pink, even in the warm light. At the moment, there was a small curve to his lips, smiling up at the angel. His hair was over his forehead, messy and a deep black, covering his straight eyebrows. Besides his eyes, he didn’t  _ look _ like he should have been a demon. Not that Wooseok knew what a demon should have looked like. He just didn’t think this face in particular belonged to someone who could murder a girl without so much as batting an eye.

 

“You got it, we’re out of the woods,” the demon said, a slight smile on his face. It wasn’t a cold smile, like Wooseok would have expected. It was small, and teasing, and it made his eyes crease up, just in the slightest bit. He leaned a little closer, and Wooseok felt his own eyes go wide. Wooseok felt uneasy, but not in the same way as he did when he thought he was going to be killed. “Thank me later. Come on, I have heated seats in my car.” He turned to walk away, his long legs carrying him quickly.

 

Wooseok figured that his bones and internal organs had finally frozen over, because he couldn’t find it in himself to move. He was stuck in place, watching the demon walk away from him, out of the ginger light, and into the darkness. The demon’s shoulders were broad, slightly swinging as he walked.

 

The demon turned around, upon noticing that Wooseok wasn’t with him. “Wooseok, right?” he asked, regarding the angel’s name. Wooseok nodded. He didn’t know what was happening to his body. Maybe he was finally dying. “I’m not gonna hurt you, come on. I’ll buy you food.”

 

Wooseok nodded, and willed his body to move. His whole body felt like it was vibrating at high speed, but he managed to take a few steps, anyway. He rubbed at his face with a hand, trying to pull himself together. It had been a long, draining day. He was lucky he could still function as well as he was. “Okay,” Wooseok said, walking a little faster so he could catch up to the demon. And he did the only thing he’d really known how to do since he fell. He followed the demon.

 

They walked in silence, for the most part. Wooseok didn’t have anything to say.

 

The street was empty, the only noise in earshot the rustle of owl wings, and the chirping of crickets. It was still cold, and Wooseok could feel that on his face, but it wasn’t nearly as damp as when they were surrounded by trees and dirt. They walked for a while, passing many streetlights. Each one of them caught the coal black of the demon’s hair, illuminating his features.

 

Wooseok really didn’t want to talk about his situation. Falling. He didn’t think the demon would understand, anyway. Demons were created to be bad. They were made that way, and they stayed that way for however long they lived. They didn’t know what it was like to  _ be _ good. Unlike Wooseok’s they had never experienced being holy, or faithful, or anything of the sort. Demons didn’t have to go through becoming tarnished, because they had always been creatures of impurity. Even if Wooseok kept going on about how it felt, and what it was like, the demon wouldn’t be able to relate. Even if Wooseok broke and told him  _ why _ he had fallen from the purest place, the demon wouldn’t understand. Maybe the demon would think it was right for Wooseok to be banished from Heaven. And that was the worst thing Wooseok could possibly think of.

 

Wooseok raised his head from where he was looking at the ground. “What’s your name?” he asked, realizing that he had no idea if the demon even  _ had _ a name.

 

The corners of the demon’s mouth curled up. It felt like he was staring straight through Wooseok’s body. “Yanan,” he smiled. He pushed his hair back and out of his face, his eyes flickering to the angel. 

 

Wooseok swallowed hard. “Just Yanan?” he asked. It was a simple name. It fit the demon well, and it rolled off of his tongue like a mint.

 

Yanan’s smile widened, his eyebrows raising. “Is your name just Wooseok?” he asked, a playful lilt to his voice.

 

“Yes,” the taller man answered.

 

“Then there’s your answer.” Yanan was a nice name. Especially for a demon. Wooseok had heard of a lot of old, complicated demon names. He’d expected the demo to hare a something a little more like that. Yanan was a nice, short name.

 

“I like it,” Wooseok said, ducking his head down, again. A car drove by, and Wooseok jumped, startled by the noise. He wondered if the driver noticed how much blood Yanan had on him. If the driver had noticed, he wondered how the demon would handle that sort of confrontation. Not well, he could only assume.

 

Yanan threw an arm over the taller man’s shoulders. He had dried blood on his hand. “Don’t be so shy, kid,” he said. I won’t hurt you, I told you that. We’re practically friends, now. You don’t have to be nervous.”

 

There was a bitter taste in Wooseok’s mouth. “You have blood on your hand,” he said, eyes glued to the burgundy colour on the demon’s long fingers.

 

“Oh,” Yanan said, sliding his arm off of the angel’s shoulders. “Sorry about that. I’ll wash when we get food.”

 

Wooseok’s stomach ached at the mention of food. He hasn’t ever technically eaten, since he’d just fallen down to earth. He felt like he was  _ starving _ . “Food?” Wooseok asked quietly. Yanan had said he was going to get food. But the idea of food was becoming more and more appealing as time went on. He wasn’t used to having to eat, since he’d spent all of his time in Heaven. He just knew he needed to do so soon, because his stomach hurt with how hard it was rumbling.

 

Yanan grinned. “If we make it that far before you waste away.” He stepped next to a silver car, opening the passenger's door. “Get in,” he said, looking the angel up and down. Wooseok slid onto the seat, allowing the demon to shut the door behind him. He walked around and got in the driver’s side, starting the car up immediately. “It should warm up, in a minute.”

 

Wooseok just nodded. It was already warmer than he had been all night. As Yanan drove down the empty street, Wooseok stopped shivering, and he was finally gaining feeling back in his nose, fingers, and toes.

 

“So, kid, what do you want to eat?” Yanan asked, turning a corner. There were already less trees, and it seemed more open. No wonder Yanan had come to these woods to kill someone. Besides Wooseok wandering in, Yanan had been totally alone with that girl.

 

Wooseok looked at the demon. He had high heel ones that seemed to glimmer with each pass of light. “I don’t know,” Wooseok said honestly. “What’s good?”

 

Yanan scoffed, and then looked at Wooseok. His locking smile was quickly replaced with wide eyes and parted lips. “Are you being serious?” he asked incredulously. His long fingers were wrapped around the steering wheel, but his eyes were in Wooseok.

 

“Yes, I’m being serious.” He didn’t think it seemed like he was making a joke. “I’ve never eaten, so I don’t have any opinions or suggestions.”

 

“You’ve never eaten?” Yanan asked, shaking his head. “Oh my god. Okay. Let’s try breakfast food, alright? I know of a place, and it’s pretty good.” He smiled at Wooseok. The angel took a deep breath. “I would kill someone for some French toast, and I have a feeling you’re going to  _ love _ pancakes.”

 

Wooseok nodded. “Okay.” He leaned his head against the window, ignoring how cold the class was. He just wanted to close his eyes. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could wake back up in Heaven, before any of this had happened. He could just wake up in Heaven, and make sure he stayed pure. He would make sure to never sin, so he wouldn’t have to confess. Even though he wasn’t sure any of it could be helped. It didn’t matter, how. It had happened. It was painful. Wooseok was on earth, now, as a punishment for his sin.

 

“You good?” The demon asked, patting Wooseok on the top of the thigh. “You’re not gonna be sick, or cry, or anything, right?” He sounded like he was worried Wooseok was going to go off like a ticking time bomb. His voice was gentle, and soothing, and the hand atop Wooseok’s thigh was warm.

 

Wooseok sat up. “I’m alright.” As alright as he had been, all night. He was warming up from the heaters in the car. He was still starving, and broken hearted. But at least he was no longer freezing to death. “Thanks.”

 

Yanan removed his hand from the angel’s leg. “Just let me know if you are,” he said. Wooseok nodded. “I take it you’re not liking earth too much, so far. I can’t blame you. Hopefully you start enjoying it more, once you get some food in you.” He looked at Wooseok to make sure the angel wasn’t crying, or anything. “We’re almost there.”

 

Wooseok nodded. “Okay.” He stared at the demon, for a moment. This was the first time he had met a demon. There was something about Yanan’s face that made Wooseok want to keep looking at him. He didn’t know what it was, or why it was. So, Wooseok just kept looking. “Thank you for doing this.”

 

Yanan’s eyebrows knit, just the slightest bit, dark eyes locked onto Wooseok’s face. “It’s no problem.” He looked at Wooseok for a moment longer, before turning back to face the road. He looked concerned for Wooseok. Wooseok wondered if he looked like he was in that poor of shape. If he looked as bad as he felt. If that was the case, he supposed the concern was fairly appropriate.

 

Wooseok was warm, now. The heat was blowing at his feet, and through the vents angled at his chest. It felt nice. He could feel his fingers, and his  toes, and fortunately even his face. His shirt was no longer freezing to his skin, and his jeans were no longer stiff. The only way he could tell that he had been crying was the puffiness of his eyes, and the roughness of his throat. As wrong as demons were, he was thankful for what this one had done for him. He was thankful to be out of the woods, and into the warmth. He was thankful that Yanan was willing to take care of him, when he was at his most desperate. He was thankful he didn’t have to be alone, anymore.

 

Yanan pulled the car into a small parking lot, giving Wooseok a small smile. “We’re here.” He shut the car off, stepping out so he could open Wooseok’s door for him. Wooseok got out, looking around. The parking lot was almost empty, save for a couple of cars. The building was small and lit up, the only source of light Wooseok had seen so far, other than the streetlights. “I come here a lot, since they’re like the only place open at four in the morning.”

 

“Is that what time it is?” Wooseok asked, looking at the restaurant building.

 

“Just about,” Yanan said. He moved towards the back of the car, opening the trunk. “I have to change into clothes that are a little less, uh, covered in blood, but you can go inside, if you want. Or you can stay out here and watch me undress, either is fine.” He sent Wooseok a flashy smile, already unbuttoning his jeans.

 

Wooseok turned away from Yanan, so he could lean on the door of his car. Now that he’d been in the warmth of the demon’s car, the cool outside air wasn’t as bad. It smelled less like trees and nature, and more like someone was cooking something in hot oil. Wooseok may have never actually been down to earth, but he knew about it. He wasn’t totally oblivious to human’s lifestyles, he’d just never experienced it for himself. “I’ll stay out here because I don’t know how this place works.”

 

Yanan gave a short laugh. “It’s just a diner-- oh, right. Alright, well, don’t freeze to death. I’m the naked one, here.”

 

Wooseok looked at the demon. He didn’t have his black pants on, anymore, so he remained in a pair of grey boxers. His legs were long and pale, seeming to go on for miles, before they finally connected to the rest of his body. Wooseok had long legs, too, but it was different seeing Yanan’s bare legs. Wooseok was used to seeing himself, and it wasn’t like the angels in Heaven constantly walked around without pants on. There was definite muscle definition in Yanan’s legs, in his calves, but especially in his thighs. He looked strong.

 

“Sweetheart, if you’re gonna stare, at least close your mouth,” the demon teased, eyebrows raised at the taller man.

 

Wooseok pursed his lips and looked away. “My mouth was closed,” he said. It was mostly closed.

 

Yanan pulled loose, grey sweatpants over his legs, rolling his eyes at the angel. “It’s an expression.” He pulled his shirt off, making a loud shivering noise, as he did. “Fuck, it’s cold. Hey, I have a jacket in here, it’ll probably fit you. Do you want to wear it?”

 

“Sure,” Wooseok said, because his arms were already starting to get goosebumps, again. He walked closer to Yanan, where the demon was holding the jacket out. He took the jacket, the black leather warm against his palms. Yanan still wasn’t wearing any shirt, goosebumps covering his pale skin. His chest and shoulders were even broader than they had looked when he was wearing the t-shirt. He had as much definition in his top half as he did his bottom, the muscles of his chest prominent, even in the dim light. His stomach was flat and toned, the waistband of the sweatpants hugging him snugly. Wooseok cleared his throat. “A leather jacket?”

 

Yanan nodded, grabbing another t-shirt from the trunk of his car. “It’s all I have, sorry. I know it’s not exactly your style.” When he put his shirt on, the muscles of his stomach and hips shifted under his skin.

 

“It’s fine,” Wooseok said, putting the jacket on. Luckily, he and Yanan were very close in size. The jacket wasn’t very soft, but it was warm, and it helped with Wooseok’s decreasing temperature.

 

Yanan pulled his head through the shirt, eyes landing on Wooseok. “Oh,” he said, eyes widening. His lips came out in a pout, his eyebrows raised. His eyes scanned up and down Wooseok’s body a few times, finally slowing to a stop at his face. “You look better than I expected.”

 

Wooseok blinked. “Thanks.” He was less concerned with how he looked, than he was about being cold. Spending so much time in the freezing woods really didn’t make him love the cold. He wanted to be warm.

 

Yanan was still staring at Wooseok in surprise. “No, seriously. You should wear leather more often.” He brushed something off of the taller man’s shoulder. “If you weren’t such a good angel boy, I’d ask if you wanted to fool around in the back of my car.”

 

Wooseok did not know what to say. In all honesty, he felt a little horrified. He supposed it was just a friendly compliment, but it was rather forward, and it was coming from a  _ demon _ , of all things. Wooseok wasn’t used to getting any compliments, much less ones like  _ that _ , from someone such as Yanan. “Thanks,” Wooseok repeated, not knowing what else he could say.

 

Yanan shut the trunk of his car, the loud noise startling the angel. “Time to go,” he grinned, patting Wooseok on the back as he started towards the restaurant. “Come on, angel face.” He kept his hand on Wooseok’s back, practically steering him in the right direction. His hand was really warm, even through the fabric of Wooseok’s shirt, and the leather jacket. Yanan’s cheeks got rounder when he smiled, turning his eyes into small crescents. Wooseok tried to smile back, but it wasn’t quite working. His face didn’t seem to  _ want  _ to smile.

 

Yanan opened the door, all but pushing Wooseok inside. The air was warm, and smelled of hot grease. “Good morning,” one of the waitresses smiled at Yanan, at the demon lead Wooseok to the back of the restaurant. Yanan nodded at the waitress before opening the door to a bathroom. “It’ll just be a second,” he said to Wooseok, eyes flickering over the taller man’s face.

 

He turned on a sink, holding his hands under the faucet. The water ran a sort of orange, the blood easily coming off of Yanan’s pale hands. He washed his hands, up his wrists, to his forearms, until the water ran clear again. Wooseok was surprised none of the restaurant staff had noticed the blood covering Yanan. The demon had been mostly covered by Wooseok, since he was standing behind him, so maybe they hadn’t paid enough to notice. Yanan stood up straight, flicking the water off of his fingers. He looked at Wooseok, tilting his head in consideration.

 

Wooseok blinked. “What?” he asked.

 

“Nothing,” the demon shrugged, wiping his hands off with a paper towel. “You’re just kind of cute, that’s all. You’re like a lost puppy.” He stood right in front of Wooseok, looking up at him. He reached up and pat the angel on the top of the head, giving an endearing smile. He walked past Wooseok, walking out of the bathroom, so Wooseok followed.

 

“I saw a puppy, once,” Wooseok said, remembering his days in Heaven, when one of his friends showed him a small brown puppy. “I like them.”

 

Yanan laughed, sliding into a booth. The seats were a maroon colour, not unlike the blood that had just been on the demon’s skin. It was thrown off by the teal shade of the tables, and the low-hanging orange lamps. There were colours everywhere, and it couldn’t have been more different from Heaven. Heaven was white, and pearl, with silver and gold accents. There was no orange, or red, or green, the way this restaurant was decorated.

 

“Yeah?” Yanan smiled, as Wooseok sat down across from him. “I think everyone likes puppies, honestly. Wait until you get to pet one.”

 

Wooseok nodded. “Is it soft?” The puppy his friend had shown him looked soft. He could only imagine what it actually felt like.

 

“They sure are,” Yanan said, his smile wide across his face. “Anyway, once we get ordering, eat as much as you want. I’ll pay for everything, you just need to eat until you can’t anymore.” He sat back in the booth, relaxed and casual. Yanan seemed like the type of person--demon-- who didn’t care about anything. He wasn’t worried, or upset, he was just doing whatever he wanted. Apparently, for Yanan, whatever he wanted was taking care of Wooseok and talking to him about puppies. He wasn’t like the demons Wooseok had always heard about.

 

“Since we don’t have to eat when we’re in Heaven, I don’t know how much I’ll eat.” Angels were the type of beings that didn’t have to eat, or sleep, or do anything of the sort, unless they were on earth. “I don’t even know how hungry I am, right now.” He just knew that his stomach ached, and he hadn’t eaten anything since he’d fallen.

 

“That’s so weird to me,” Yanan said. “I fuckin’ love to eat, dude, I can’t imagine not  _ having  _ to eat.” He adjusted in his seat, again, sitting up straight so he was looking right at Wooseok, nearly at eye level. “That’s fine, though. We’ll just start out with a little bit. Do you want hot chocolate?”

 

Wooseok pursed his lips. “Uh, I don’t know. Sure?” The word ‘hot’ was appealing. He was still kind of cold, even though they were inside. He wondered if being in the cold for so long had affected him long term. He hoped not, but he really didn’t know. The human body was different from the one he was used to, since he was immortal in Heaven. He didn’t know what would or could damage him, now that he was level with humans.

 

“Hopefully you start feeling better than you have been,” the demon said, a strand of black hair falling over his forehead when he moved. “Food should help.”

 

Wooseok gave a small nod. “Thanks.”

 

One of the waiters stepped up to the table they were at, a notepad in his hand. “Hello, can I start you off with some drinks or appetizers?”

 

Yanan nodded, looking down at the menu that had been on the table when they sat down. “Can we get two hot chocolates?” he asked, a thin, friendly smile on his face. It looked a lot different from the times Yanan had smiled at Wooseok. It looked staged, and superficial, like Yanan didn’t want to be smiling at this waiter. “Whipped cream, please. And a plate of cheesy fries.”

 

The waiter nodded with a bright smile. “I’ll be right back with that.”

 

The demon turned his head to look at Wooseok. “It’s good, I think you’ll like it.”

 

“Alright,” Wooseok said. He folded his hands in his lap. The seat of the booth was soft, made of a malleable plastic. Wooseok’s knees were almost touching the underside of the table, when he moved. Maybe he was taller than he had realized. The booth made Wooseok want to sink into it, or lie down.

 

“Cheer up,” Yanan said, leaning over the table. “I know earth has sucked for you, so far, but it’s gonna be alright. It’s not that bad of a place, and you’ll get used to it soon enough.”

 

Wooseok slumped down farther into the booth. “I  _ have  _ to get used to it, one way or another.”

 

“Well, sure,” Yanan said. “But it’s really not that bad. Think about it this way: when I came up here, I thought it was Heaven on earth. Ironic, right? I was  _ glad  _ to be here. You’ll learn to love it.”

 

Wooseok didn’t know how to explain why that didn’t make him feel any better about his situation. Earth may have been a gift for Yanan, but he was a demon. Of course somewhere this full of sin and impurity would be considered a prize for him. But Wooseok was an angel. Heaven was a place entirely void of wrong. Coming down to earth, because of a mistake he had made, was most certainly a punishment. A demon’s reward was an angel’s punishment. It was just the difference in beings. Wooseok didn’t know how to explain that to the man sitting across from him.

 

“I’m being punished,” Wooseok chose to say, to summarize his feelings.

 

“It’s not the end of the world,” Yanan said, with a sympathetic smile. Two mugs got set on the table in front of them, followed by a plate.

 

The waiter flipped his notepad open, smiling down at the men. “Are we ready to order?” he asked, an overly polite quip in his voice.

 

“Sure,” Yanan said, eyeing the menu on the table. “We’re gonna do one of these California-style burgers, the one with the pineapple, please. He’s gonna get the chocolate pancakes, with scrambled eggs and bacon on the side. And then the two pieces of cinnamon French toast.”

 

The waiter nodded, scribbling on his notepad. “Will that be all?”

 

“For now,” Yanan said, that fake smile on his lip. “Thanks.” The waiter left, and the demon turned his attention back to Wooseok. “There are a lot of good things about earth. One, you don’t have to follow all those rules. Two, we have hot chocolate.” He held a mug up to his lips, taking a sip. Wooseok watched the way his throat moved when he smiled. Yanan’s tongue came out to lick the whipped cream off of his own lips. “Try some, it’s good. Be careful, though, it’s hot.”

 

Wooseok picked the mug up by the handle, surprised at the heat it was giving off. It made his frozen fingers feel alive, again, and maybe a little  _ too  _ warm. He put the mug up to his face. It smelled good. The liquid burn his top lip, so he flinched away. It  _ did  _ smelled really good, though. He tipped the mug forward slowly, and let the hot liquid spill into his mouth. It tasted even better than it smelled. It was sweet, and sugary, and even though Wooseok had never experienced it before, he knew exactly what it was. It was almost  _ too  _ sweet, but it made his taste buds explode with flavour, and he wanted to keep drinking it, even though it made the inside of his chest feel like it was on fire. “Oh,” Wooseok said, pulling the mug away to stare at it, wide-eyed. It was  _ so  _ sweet. “I think I like this,” he said wondrously.

 

Yanan’s expression stretched into a smile. “It’s good, right?” he pushed the plate of cheese-covered french fries toward Wooseok. “Try some of these,” he suggested, a pleased look on his face. He watching watching every one of Wooseok’s movements, curiosity in his colourless eyes.

 

It didn’t smell as good as the hot chocolate did, but it looked appealing. Besides, Wooseok was starving, and he’d never eaten, before. He couldn’t be picky.

 

As soon as he started chewing, he could feel his eyes go wide. It was soft, yet crunchy, and really salty. Wooseok was thrown off by how much salt was in this food, but there was something about this that made him feel like he  _ needed  _ to keep eating.

 

Yanan’s grin was wide, showing off his perfectly straight, white teeth. “Is it good, buddy?” he asked happily.

 

Wooseok couldn’t stop the small smile that came onto his face, even though he did try. “Yes,” Wooseok said quickly, shoving a few more of the fries in his mouth. He could really feel how hungry he was, now. He chewed quickly, his stomach yelling at him to keep eating. “It’s really good.”

 

“Well, eat up.” The demon smiled, watching Wooseok inhale a couple of fries. He was leaned back in his seat, like existing as a demon, being here with an angel, was the easiest thing on earth. Maybe it was easy for demons to exist; Wooseok didn’t know a lot about the subject. Demons didn’t have to feel the pressure of being perfect on an imperfect world, like angels did. They just existed, as far as Wooseok knew, and weren’t plagued with the turmoil of their own haunting thoughts. Wooseok, on the other hand, couldn’t blink his eyes without being tortured by what all of the angels in Heaven would think of what he was doing, right now.

 

“Don’t you want any?” Wooseok asked, through a mouthful of potatoes. Yanan hadn’t eaten any of them, yet. Wooseok was afraid he was going to finish the entire plate before the demon even got a chance. It was odd, getting along with a demon in this way.

 

“Nah, I just want my french toast,” he explained. He watched Wooseok eat, the flourescent lights of the diner reflecting off of his eyes. “You need it more than I do, anyway.”

 

Wooseok just nodded, too preoccupied with eating to be able to respond with words. Food was  _ good _ . Really, really good, at least so far. He probably could have eaten an entire table full of french fries, if he got the opportunity. He didn’t know what it was about them that made him want to eat them forever, like he was addicted. Wooseok was fairly certain he loved food.

 

When the rest of their food arrived, Wooseok couldn’t hold himself back. He ate the burger first, trying not to eat too fast, but ultimately failing. He took big bites, savouring the saltiness paired with the taste of the pineapple. And there were _ more fries _ . He ate them just as quickly as he’d eaten the first plate, barely watching Yanan eat his french toast. Yanan ate daintily, but definitely like he was hungry. Wooseok wondered how long it had been since the demon had eaten.

 

Then there were the pancakes. Oh, the pancakes. After Wooseok’s first bite, he groaned loudly, much to his own embarrassment. It was just so good. There was chocolate in them, and it was really sweet, and then Yanan had poured syrup on them, and Wooseok thought his mouth was going to explode with happiness.

 

“Hey, maybe don’t moan so loudly in public,” Yanan said in a hushed tone, leaning over the table. The tops of his ears were flushed red, an odd smile on his face. He squeezed his eyes shut with a small laugh, and shook his head at Wooseok.

 

Wooseok didn’t really know what Yanan’s reaction meant, but he did figure he should try to be quieter, since he was in this diner so late into the night. He figured it would be morning, soon, if what he knew about earth was at all accurate. “Sorry,” Wooseok said, swallowing another large bite. He shoveled some scrambled eggs into his mouth, amazed how every single food could be so delicious. “I think I love food,” he confessed.

 

Yanan laughed loudly. “Now you get it,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

 

Wooseok took another sip of his hot chocolate, rather enjoying the hot feeling in gave him, down his throat, his chest, and into his stomach. “Salty,” Wooseok said, wiping the salt off of his hands, onto the napkins crumbled on the top of the table. “Good. This is all so good.”

 

Yanan chuckled, eyes creasing with the sound. “I’m glad you’re enjoying,” he said, taking the last bite of his French toast. “Are you about finished, or do you want more food?”

 

Wooseok thought about this for a moment. He  _ wanted _ to keep eating, that was certain. But when he thought about it, his stomach felt rather full, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to fit any more food inside of him, even if they  _ did _ taste exceptional. “I think I’ll be finished when I eat the rest of this,” he said, gesturing to the last half of his pancakes.

 

“Take your time,” Yanan said. His voice was soft, like the sound of a piano. Despite everything Wooseok had been through, and everything he knew the demon did, he felt comforted by his voice. It was soft, and pretty, and it reminded Wooseok of the way snow drifted down to the ground. Maybe that meant he was a lot more impure than he had thought he was, but he didn’t want to think about that, right now. He was here, inhaling a stack of chocolate-chip pancakes, sitting across from a demon with mysteriously dark eyes. He didn’t want to think about why he’d fallen, or what this meant for him. That would make his stomach hurt, and it’d just upset him. He didn’t want to cry, again. For now, he wanted to focus on the things he liked about this night: the food, the warmth, and Yanan.

 

When Wooseok was finished eating, Yanan paid the waiter, and the angel gave a loud yawn. He’d been exhausted-- both physically and emotionally-- from the time he’d woken up on earth. He wanted to close his eyes right now, but he was afraid he wouldn’t stay conscious, in this restaurant booth. The booth was plastic, but it was warm, now, so Wooseok was sure that if he just closed his eyes for a mere second longer, he’d be able to fall asleep right in the center of this diner. He wanted to, very badly. He knew he couldn’t though, not now, even if everything in his body was telling him to lie down and stop holding into his consciousness.

 

“Hey,” Yanan said gently, leaning forward, practically over the top of the table. His hand shook the taller man’s shoulder, getting Wooseok to open his eyes fully. He was just barely smiling at Wooseok, the very corners of his lips turned up towards his eyes. “Are you tired?” he asked. His voice was quieter than it had been before, or maybe Wooseok was just imagining things. His brain was starting to shut off after having such a big meal. His body wanted to sleep, finally. Wooseok gave a lazy nod, eyes unmoving from Yanan’s face. He felt warm. Yanan gave a small chuckle. “Alright, you big baby, you can come home with me. You can sleep on my couch if you want, alright? I’ll give you some blankets, and get you breakfast in the morning, and I won’t try to hurt you at all. Does that sound okay?”

 

Wooseok sat up a little in his seat, trying to force himself to stay awake. It felt like he was going to be lulled to sleep by Yanan’s murmuring voice. “That’s alright,” he nodded, blinking his eyes a few times. “Thank you.” He would have somewhere to sleep. That was good. Sleep really was the only thing on his mind, for the time being, so he was grateful for that much. 

 

Yanan stood up and tugged on Wooseok’s wrist, until he stood. “I keep forgetting how tall you are,” the demon said, looking Wooseok over from head to toe. He turned, nodding a good night to the waiters and staff of the restaurant. He used his grip around Wooseok’s wrist to pull him through the restaurant, and back out into the cold of the still night. Everything felt and looked blurry to Wooseok, too strained from his first night on earth to be able to focus on any given thing. That was, besides the way Wooseok was being pulled by this demon. “Let’s go.” The hand on Wooseok was warm, fingers up under the leather sleeve of the borrowed jacket. Yanan’s fingers were long, and he touched Wooseok so gently, it was as if he were afraid he was going to crush the angel. It was like one wrong move, one move too harsh or quick, would shatter the angels bones into fine dust. It was gentle to the point that Wooseok wasn’t sure his wrist wasn’t being enveloped by cumulus clouds. All he could do was let himself follow the tender touch of this cloud, and remind himself that it was actually a demon.

 

It was still freezing, outside. Wooseok could have swore he saw the tiger-orange of the sun peeking just above the horizon, polluting the indigo of the sky. It would be warmer, once the sun came up. Maybe it would be warm enough for Wooseok to want to stay outside, under the rays of the sun, where it wasn’t too dark outside to see, anymore. He didn’t know how he’d feel, come tomorrow. Sad, without a doubt. He would have more time to process all that had happened, and wallow in the assurance that he was out of Heaven for good. But he would also have to learn to get past the hollowness in the pit of his stomach, and learn to accept his new life on earth. 

 

Wooseok had a lot of questions. About earth, about being a demon, about Yanan. He didn’t know what he was doing, or why he was following this demon to take care of him, but he knew there was something very unfamiliar and trusting that made him want to let Yanan help him some more. Partially because he had nowhere else to go, and no knowledge of how to survive on earth. But it wasn’t just that. Yanan was nice to him. Yanan had a soft voice, and soft skin, and his hair looked soft, and even more, the way his black eyes looked at Wooseok was soft. It was clear that he didn't want to hurt or kill Wooseok. Wooseok was like a small wounded animal, no wings to fly with. The angel was sad, and broken, and there was a lot going on in his head that he didn’t want to explore, because it scared him more than he thought possible. He’d sobbed, and shivered, and barely survived through the night, but Yanan was somehow always there to make the icy ache in Wooseok’s chest a little smaller. Regardless of his evil nature, Yanan helped Wooseok through the majority of the night, and there was no way Wooseok was ever going to be able to thank him enough, for that. He was just going to trust Yanan, despite all he’d learned in Heaven.

 

It was right in front of the demon’s doorstep, when Wooseok turned to look at Yanan. He had a lot to say. He didn’t know how to say it, because he was overly-emotional, and beyond exhausted. Even if he wasn’t, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to say all of the things he wanted to say. “Yanan,” he said, looking down at the demon. Yanan was in the midst of unlocking his front door, his mail held steady between his lips. His coal-like eyes snapped up to Wooseok’s face, his eyebrows raised in question. Wooseok felt the corners of his own lips tilt up, just ever-so-slightly. “Thank you for everything.”

 

Yanan let the door swing open, taking the mail out of his mouth. His lips were pink, from being out in the cold just a few minutes ago. A smile stretched wide over his face, and he tilted his head. The way he was looking at Wooseok was making the taller man want to cry, even though he couldn’t put his finger on exactly why. “You’re welcome,” he grinned, stepping through the frame of the door. The light from inside was illuminating his facial features. “You don’t have to be afraid, with me.”

 

Wooseok could hear his own heart beat beating in his ears. He took a step inside, immediately feeling the warmth of Yanan’s apartment, and the warmth of the demon standing so close in front of him. “I trust you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is the first collaboration both of us have worked on, we’d really appreciate it if you left kudos, a bookmark, or especially a comment, telling us how you feel about this new fic!! Comments let us know what you’re feeling, and encourage us to write more!
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and we hope to see all of you when we get our next update posted!


	4. Noise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so immensely sorry that this chapter has taken literal months to write but i hope that you all will still enjoy this chapter and the rest of the story. we truly do love this fic and are excited !! to continue developing it so please stay tuned for more updates.

yanan woke up in somewhat of a daze, neck aching from the way he was hanging off of the couch, long limbs uncomfortably curled. his head felt foggy, the way it did after a long night of drinking but he knew that wasn’t the case. in fact, this was probably the most sober he’d ever been. 

 

“good morning, yanan!” wooseok chirped from where he was sat criss cross applesauce in front of the television. he was wearing one of yanan’s hoodies, an oversized red one that looked stark against his pale skin, sleeves pulled over his hands. he had only been living at yanan’s for a week and buying the angel clothes of his own had completely slipped the demon’s mind. 

 

“what are you watching?” yanan groaned, voice low and groggy with sleep. all he could hear was the loud volume of whatever show wooseok had on, cranked up too loud. he was still learning how to properly use the remote and all it’s buttons. 

 

“ummm,” wooseok hummed, tapping his finger against his bottom lip, “i’m not sure but the lady is giving away a lot of free stuff. ‘and you get a car!’” he imitated, giggling under his breath. 

 

_ are you fucking kidding me?  _ yanan dropped his head back onto the couch with an audible thump. the kid was actually watching oprah. it was way too early for this. 

 

he couldn’t believe he had given that brat his bed to sleep in. he didn’t really know why he did half of the things he had for wooseok. things he would never do for anyone else. it was puzzling, unfamiliar. 

 

“did you eat breakfast yet, angelface?” he finally pushed himself up, running a hand through the messy black strands. he would say he felt like death, but he knows what that feels like and it’s definitely not this. he felt like he got hit by a small truck or maimed by a bear and left to bleed out. he blinked rapidly, trying to make the world around him focus. 

 

“nope.” wooseok popped the ‘p’, looking at yanan with those big doe eyes of his. it still shocked him at times how positively pure the angel was. yanan was pretty sure he had passed by toddlers in the supermarket more tainted than wooseok was. his soul was laid bare in front of yanan, pristine and sparkling. and yet the angel believed he was damned. 

 

it didn’t make much sense to yanan. if wooseok had done something so corrupt, so brutally awful yanan would know. he would be able to smell it lingering on the angel, sticking to him like black mold, branded into his skin. he would be able to taste it in the air the way he did with all his victims before he ripped their heads clean off and burned their bodies up. 

 

wooseok was so far from damned he stunk with purity. he was a picture perfect angel but the small stain that brought him down to earth was gigantic in wooseok’s eyes. if only he knew what people would do with a soul as pure as his. 

 

wooseok asked a lot of questions. which was understandable considering he knew absolutely nothing about earth, nothing about living as a human. but it still caught yanan off guard with how simple the questions were. being on earth for decades made him forget that there were people who were ignorant to the lifestyle of humans, even though that had been him not so long ago. 

 

wooseok didn’t understand the concept of music, there wasn’t any where he was from, no harps playing as the pearly gates opened. yanan had taken it upon himself to educate wooseok on the genius that was rock n roll, but the angel took a liking to lo-fi instead. so yanan played a mix of the strokes and some soft indie singers he found on youtube. 

 

wooseok was absolutely amazed by telephones, the way they worked, all the things they could be used for. the day yanan ordered pizza delivery he was stunned. he waited by the door for the pizza guy to come, shrieking and fleeing from it when a knock sounded. he had believed yanan was messing with him when he said food could be ordered and sent to your house in minutes. it was sort of endearing? if yanan was being honest. 

 

yanan had to sit down and explain to him what a television was and that most of the shows on it were fake after wooseok saw a law & order episode by accident and cried for a half an hour. he liked cartoons a lot more than anything else and sat so close to the screen that if he wasn’t an angel he would’ve gone blind every time cartoon network was on. 

 

it was quite different living with someone else and an angel at that. yanan had gotten so used to being alone, having a space to himself that sometimes it still gave him a shock to hear wooseok puttering around in the kitchen from the other room or getting up to pee in the middle of the night. it was like the other man was slowly creeping his way into all of yanan’s crevices, slow and sticky, and he couldn’t tell if he liked it or not. but it wasn’t like he could kick the angel out now, could he?

 

he didn’t know why he was allowing this angel to infiltrate his space. he got crabby when his friends stayed over a little too long, rubbing their grubby cheeto-dust fingers over his game controllers, sleepily slobbering all over his couch. out of most people yanan had come across his friends were some of the best and he didn’t feel the urge to brutally murder them most days. but he couldn’t stand them in his personal space for longer than was needed. 

 

yanan had come to appreciate the simplicity of living alone, of waking up and making coffee in his underwear, using the bathroom with the door wide open. he could fuck people on any surface, on the kitchen table if he wanted because everything belonged to him and him only. 

 

living with someone else meant having to take their feelings and comfortability into consideration. yanan didn’t care about being considerate, he didn’t care much about...anything really.  

 

but it didn’t feel weird. wooseok couldn’t be overbearing if he tried, he was shy and quiet and blushed when he spoke a little too loudly. he got embarrassed if he was showering and yanan stepped in to brush his teeth, squealing even though nothing could be seen through the thick shower curtain. that was another thing yanan had to get used to. knocking. 

 

the first night they had argued over where wooseok was going to sleep, the angel protesting that he couldn’t possibly sleep in yanan’s bed, seeing the way his long legs hung off of the couch. it was a back and forth that quickly got annoying so yanan had simply rolled his pitch black eyes down, growling out ‘take the goddamn bed’ until wooseok agreed out of fear. it was nice to know that he still had his edge. 

 

it wasn’t all smooth sailing but that was to be expected. it took three days for wooseok to stop flinching whenever yanan mentioned something dark and morbid. three days for yanan to take the hint and stop mentioning things of that nature at all. it was as if the angel had forgotten he lived with a demon and yanan’s mouth was a constant reminder. yanan couldn’t hold back his smirks at the way wooseok’s pupils would start to dart around the room as his big body curled into a small protective ball. 

 

wooseok didn’t want to discuss his fall so yanan didn’t bring it up. it was something of a traumatizing event to the angel, that much he could tell. he could see it in wooseok’s eyes, he wasn’t ready to talk about it any more so than he already had. it was as if he had said too much and was carefully guarding the rest. wooseok’s memories of heaven were precious golden doubloons that yanan was not allowed to touch.

 

that was okay with yanan. whatever wooseok had done to guarner his fall was nothing compared to the sticky black sin that lingered all over town, that lingered everywhere. it floated on the air like snow, close enough to do damage but too far away to touch. it was like rolling gray fog, pollution dancing with the clouds. 

 

wooseok’s soul was pure. yanan could see that better than anyone. a single flower growing in the middle of a desert littered in bodies. an alluring oddity. 

 

it almost hurt to look at him for too long. to see unadulterated innocence there in front of him, with his own soul darkened, scorched in his chest felt...wrong. dirty almost. but wooseok didn’t have anyone else but yanan. they both knew that. yanan was sure that was the only reason wooseok was still there. eating his pop tarts and curling up in yanan’s big blue flannels. 

 

but living with the wooseok was entertaining. he was still learning what kinds of foods he liked and yanan couldn’t lie and say he didn’t find delight in feeding the angel. his face scrunched up in disgust when yanan made him suck on a lemon and lit up in awe after a simple bowl of cereal. it was intriguing to say the least. 

 

wooseok didn’t understand why yanan liked coffee so much, he prefered sweetened hot chocolate, and had spat out the bitter drink the moment he took a sip. he loved chicken and chinese takeout, especially egg rolls and he had been confused at the idea of fortune cookies.  _ (‘how does the cookie know my fortune but i do not? is it magic?’) _

 

“i was waiting for you to wake up.” wooseok smiled, tentatively but it got wider by the seconds, scrambling to his feet. “and i still don’t know how to use the toaster.” he looked a little sheepish. the angel had taken a liking to chocolate chip pop-tarts. yanan couldn’t blame him. 

 

“you just push the button down.” yanan yawned, stretching as he made his way into the kitchen knowing wooseok would follow after him. 

 

“well you told me not to touch anything unless i was sure.” wooseok protested, pouting slightly, “i didn’t want to set the kitchen on fire.” 

 

“you set my kitchen on fire-”

 

“‘i set you on fire.’ i know.” wooseok quoted, rolling his eyes as he took a seat at the table. “so see, i was just being precautious.” 

 

“well thank the lord for that.” yanan ripped the shiny wrapper open with his teeth, popping the pastries into the toaster with a hum. he turned on the coffee maker for himself and grabbed wooseok a glass of milk, knowing the angel would rather eat dirt than drink espresso. 

 

wooseok scrunched up at his nose, taking a sip as they waited for the poptarts to be done. he wore a pair of yanan’s old shorts, long pale legs on display as he swung them back and forth absentmindedly. his face was alight with something yanan was glad to see, some sort of contentment, less afraid. of yanan himself and everything else around them. 

 

the sound of the tarts popping up still made wooseok jump and almost lose his balance, a hand pressed to his heart like it was beating out of his chest. yanan’s lips just quirked at the corners, letting wooseok take one as he took the other, munching on it absentmindedly as his coffee drained through. 

 

he drunk it black, without cream, or sugar, or milk, because the taste didn’t matter. the way it felt going down was most important. yanan liked everything thing more when it was a bit darker, bitter, anyways. a little more gritty, a little more twisted, things that hit really deep inside. 

 

wooseok fumbled with his glass, giving himself a messy little milk mustache and wiped at it with a clenched fist, looking too much like a disgruntled kitten. yanan sighed and reached up to grab a cup from the top shelf, looking away. 

 

“what are we doing today?” wooseok licked smudged chocolate off of his thumb, doe eyes crossing as he did so. 

 

“nothing, nothing and nothing.” yanan recited, taking a deep sip from his powerpuff girls mug, mojo jojo’s smiling face a little sticky where the liquid ran down the sides. “i need a nap.” 

 

he really did. yanan felt like he could lay back down and sleep the rest of the day away. maybe even the day after that too. before long he was eyeing the bottom of his cup and poured himself a new one, letting the scalding hot liquid rest on his tongue. 

 

“you just woke up!” wooseok frowned, “i thought we could go to the park today? i’m hoping that puppy from last time will be there.” 

 

“aw did you make a new friend, sweetheart?” yanan drawled, just enough bite to it to make wooseok huff. yanan had stopped going into detail about his gruesome “devilish” endeavors but his teasing nature was just something wooseok would have to get used to. 

 

yanan was more locally known to be a “troublemaker with a smart mouth and a sharp tongue”,or at least that’s what the landlady of the apartments called him in greek because she thought he didn’t understand. 

 

it was mostly because he wasn’t scared of anything. not of bugs or rodents, not of drowning or clowns, or anything people normally had phobias of. he tore apart people’s bodies with his bare hands, watched the life drain from their limp bodies and that never scared him. nor did he regret it. 

 

and humans didn’t intimidate him in the slightest. so he felt no need to hold his tongue and be anything but sly and a little bit mocking. (maybe a touch manipulative if it got him what he wanted). 

 

when yanan first woke up on earth, scent smoky like a campfire, looking like he just crawled out of a tar pit; he didn’t understand humans. he had to study them for a while, walk like them, talk like them until their behavior made sense. he had learned that humans weren’t honest with each other because they didn’t want ‘step on anyone’s toes’, hurt each other’s feelings. yanan didn’t care if people’s feelings got hurt because of him. 

 

he didn’t sugarcoat things because he didn’t see the point. how did humans get to know each other if they just lied all the time? it seemed like a very dishonest way of living, no sense of satisfaction to it. 

 

for the past week yanan had been nothing but honest to wooseok, answering almost all of his questions about earth, trying to explain in a way that was easy for the angel to understand. but he never lied to wooseok, never coated his words in dripping honey just because the angel was naive. either way, wooseok would believe yanan because who else did he have to tell him the truth? 

 

yanan was a demon, through and through. something that scared wooseok, intimidated him even. and he wasn’t going to change just because there was an angel sleeping in his bed, ignorant to the way the world worked. he gave wooseok honest information, that was all he could do really. 

 

and if he teased the angel in the process, making his nose scrunch, face all skewed as he thought of a response, then that would become normal for them. 

 

“do you really want to go to the park?” yanan sighed, hands twitching like they were ready to pick up a third cup of coffee. he needed a drink, caffeine was doing nothing for him. 

 

wooseok’s face lit up and he bounced a bit from where he was sat, limbs spread out like a gangly baby calf. “yeah! even if we don’t see the puppy from last time, the swings were fun and that milky drink we got was delicious.” 

 

“ah i see, you only want to go because you want a milkshake.” yanan accused, watching his cheeks tinge with a light pink. it seemed as though wooseok’s cheeks were always rosy, skin plush and plump where wooseok’s palms cupped them. 

 

“maybe.” wooseok mumbled, head hanging slightly as he fiddled with a loose string on yanan’s hoodie. the fabric shifted to the right so the creamy skin of his collarbone peeked out from the stretched out neckhole. yanan wondered briefly how it would feel under his hands as he wrapped them around the angel’s neck and shook his head, flicking the coffee maker back on. 

 

he was better than that. 

 

“i like the one with the peanut butter.” wooseok rambled on, a dribble of milk resting by the corner of his lip but he continued, unaware. when yanan leaned forward to wipe it off, the angel violently flinched back, almost like a reflex and they stared at each other in the silence of the kitchen until the coffee maker beeped. 

 

yanan cleared his throat and went to make his third cup, downing it in about 13 seconds, rubbing his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt afterwards. “i’m gonna take a shower.” 

 

“and then we can go to the park?” 

 

“yeah sure.” 

 

“thank you.” wooseok said softly, like he really really meant it, looking up at yanan under his long eyelashes and the demon just nodded, brushing by him to exit the room. 

 

the shower in yanan’s building took forever to get warm so he curled up on the toilet and played tetris until he saw the steam rising over the curtain, water hot enough to boil. he needed it to be scalding, hot water still felt like room temperature to him. 

 

yanan sighed the moment the hot water poured over his shoulders, easing his tense muscles at once. he pulled his already wet hair back away from his forehead, letting the water run over his closed eyes, cheeks, lips. he turned and let out a long breath as soon as the water started it’s trek down his bare back, over his legs and tense muscles. sleeping on the couch was making his body hurt in all kinds of weird places. he was happy to be submerged in warmth again. 

 

there was a comfort yanan found in being warm. not too hot, not too cold. hell was no playground, no hot summer’s day. it was suffocatingly hot there, so much that your skin would scream as it was being steamed, a constant reminder that you’re burning slowly to death. 

 

when it was too cold, it felt like his body was shutting down. when he first woke up on earth he was in the middle of alaska, shivering on a pile of ice. his skin that was still scolding to the touch melted the floor beneath him until he was drenched in a pool of ice water, sinking to the bottom. 

 

it was...terrifying. 

 

so warm it is. that’s where his best memories and feelings are. 

 

that had been crossing his mind over and over that first night as wooseok shivered before him. that he needed to warm him up. 

 

and well, yanan’s not exactly maternal, he couldn’t take care of a cactus, nevermind anyone else. but he needed to make sure wooseok wasn’t covered in goosebumps, ice slowly spreading over his skin. 

 

as he rotated his stiff neck he thought again about the angel just a room away, his doe eyes and weird obsession with whipped cream. the terrified boy he saw just a week ago, scrambling away was now drinking out of  _ his  _ cups, sleeping in  _ his  _ bed, calling  _ yanan’s _ name when he needed help. it was puzzling, peculiar, odd, all of the above. 

 

yanan knew why he had taken the angel in, deep down he knew. it wasn’t just because wooseok had been alone but because yanan had been too once. he ended up on earth, hot as hellfire, completely deserted and confused about where he was, how he got there. 

 

five years in he was searching for his purpose of being on earth, trying to find a reason, a piece of concrete evidence as to why he had been sent. he found nothing. fifteen years after that he was just tired. of himself and the bloodlust that thrummed under the surface of his skin like a heartbeat. 

 

he didn’t know if he killed because he was a demon and that’s what he believed was the purpose of living. or if he killed because he wanted to, simple as that. maybe he hurt people because he wanted to feel something since merely living made him feel nothing. he pondered it for a year and came to the decision that maybe he didn’t want to live at all. 

 

the water abruptly switched to cold just as he was rinsing off the last cluster of soap and he jumped back, spluttering. like it was planned, a small scream carried from the living room, distinctly wooseok’s voice and without thinking he pulled the curtains back, stopped just long enough to tuck a towel around his waist before he was moving into the other room. he stood there, leaking onto the hardwood floors below him as he blinked back at shinwon and hui’s confused faces. 

 

“yananie.” shinwon greeted nonchalantly, like he definitely hadn’t committed breaking and entering, hui slung under his arm. 

 

“how did you get into my house?” he questioned, pushing the wet dangling strands of hair away from his eyes that trailed over wooseok’s curled up form, huddled up defensively in the corner of the couch. 

 

“i have my ways, don’t worry about it.” hui shrugged, looking a little too pleased with himself for yanan’s tastes. 

 

“you can stop freaking out.” yanan directed at wooseok whos head peeked up once he realized he was being addressed, slightly calmer because the demon wasn’t screaming at or attacking the people he only knew as strangers. “these assholes are my friends. i guess.” 

 

“sorry for scaring you.” hui apologized with a soft smile and wooseok tried to smile back, but yanan could see that his hands were still shaking. 

 

“yanan didn’t tell us you were here.” shinwon glared at the demon from the corner of his eyes and yanan could tell he was going to grill him for every single detail about wooseok. he could feel the headache coming. “if he had we would’ve used the door like civilized human beings.” 

 

“well you’re not civilized.” yanan pointed at shinwon, “and he’s not human.” he gestured at hui. “i can’t remember the last time you have ever attempted to be anything but.” 

 

they didn’t react at all to the words leaving yanan’s mouth, the black haired man could tell they were much too intrigued by wooseok, could probably smell the innocence wafting off of him. he could see the gears turning in their head, explanations for why a boy like wooseok was in yanan’s apartment, still alive and breathing. 

 

yanan normally didn’t have much company besides them and the tipsy individuals he picked up from nearby bars for a quick fuck. wooseok wasn’t the type the demon would normally bring home, at all. and no one ever stayed any later than eight a.m, nor did they wear yanan’s clothes. it all seemed too intimate. 

 

yanan didn’t do intimacy. 

 

“be right back.” he dipped out of the room quickly to pull a pair of sweatpants over his hips, no underwear because what was the point, and a plain t-shirt. when he re-entered the living room, he jerked his head towards to kitchen, making sure his friends were following. 

 

yanan’s hair still dripped onto the tiles as they settled in, judgement and confusement written clearly on their faces. 

 

“who’s the fresh meat on your couch?” shinwon asked bluntly, never one to mince his words. his hip cocked to the side, hand daintily resting on it. it was like no matter where he was or what he was doing he needed to be poised. 

 

“and why does he smell like that? so clean?” hui sniffed, nose wrinkling. “he smells like a newborn baby.” 

 

“because he practically is one.” yanan huffed, rolling his eyes. his friends were so loud and demanding pretty much all of the time. they’re extremely lucky he hasn’t snapped one of their necks yet. “he’s an angel.”

 

“never seen one of those before.” hui hummed in thought, dragging his tongue across his plump bottom lip. his eyes flashed with a feral glint. “never tasted one before either.” 

 

“sorry he’s not on the menu.” he pushed past them with a low grunt. he needed more coffee. asap. 

 

“since when do you care who i have dinner?” hui looked genuinely surprised, eyes wide as they follow closely behind. 

 

yanan had a habit of dragging some of the worst humans he came across to hui, to drain completely. the bite of a vampire especially in a more...sexual sense was not inherently lethal. he eyed shinwon and hui for a moment. it was encouraged actually. 

 

draining however was not only deadly but excruciating. like everything that matters to you, all your memories, the things you keep dearest and closest to you are being sucked out through a straw. small, microscopic needles by the thousands pricking your body repeatedly as your brain is slowly cooked to mush. 

 

it doesn’t take just your blood, it steals your essence. leaves you without any of the pieces of your soul that make a human truly alive. empty, a skeleton in more ways that one. 

 

yanan wouldn’t let that happen to wooseok. he’d be damned if he let someone place a finger on the kid. he was too innocent, too pure of heart and mind. he wasn’t meant to be a vampire’s first course. 

 

wooseok was still lounging in the living room, some educational documentary about birds on. the narrator droned on in a monotone voice, accent heavy and overwhelmingly british. he seemed to be enjoying it so yanan couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed. the volume was still too loud. 

 

“since when do you  _ care _ ?” shinwon snorted, looking too proud of himself and yanan flicked him so hard the skin of his forearm was already starting to bruise as he pulled away. 

 

“he’s not up for grabs, okay?” is all yanan said in return, taking a deep gulp of the scalding hot coffee without a flinch. “that’s all you need to know. and last time i checked you weren’t only giving up ass but your neck as well, correct? go do that, personal blood bank.” his tone was scathing. 

 

“someone’s on edge.” hui whistled, not at all bothered, hopping up onto the counter with a toothy smile. “guessing you aren’t fucking the angel or you’d be a lot calmer right now.” 

 

“why am i friends with you idiots again?” 

 

“because we’re the only ones who aren’t terrified of you.” shinwon grinned, in the same cooing tone yanan used. “are you gonna tell us why you’ve got yourself an angel for a pet? you always seemed like more of a cat person to me.” 

 

“he’s not my pet.” yanan was quick to defend, ignoring the way hui’s eyebrows shot up. “the kid needed my help, okay? that’s all you need to know.” 

 

“fine.” hui pulled shinwon back, the taller’s broad shoulders and small waist fitting between his legs. “we’ll leave it alone. just come over to me and dawnie’s tonight.” 

 

“i can’t just leave wooseok here.” yanan hissed, like saying the angel’s name too loud would summon him or something. he was still watching the television though, they could hear his small chuckles and queries to himself from where they were standing. 

 

“so that’s his name.” shinwon hummed, resting his elbows on hui’s thighs. they looked cozy, fit together in a way that shouldn’t work but it does. it made a smile tug at the corner of his lips. 

 

“bring him along then.” hui smiled wider, the grin of a shark, intriguing and dangerous. “i extend my invitation. we’ll make sure he has a good time.” 

 

“how many people?” yanan sighed, downing the rest of his drink with ease. he knew his friends didn’t take no for an answer. instead they would just annoy you into telling them what they wanted to hear. he’d rather skip all that and just give in early. 

 

“just us, dawnie and the youngins. scout’s honor.” shinwon promised, waggling his eyebrows with a hand pressed sincerely across his chest. his black hair was growing longer at the back of his head in a messy mullet that hui ran his fingers through. 

 

“sweetheart you were never a scout.” yanan allowed himself to laugh, relaxing into the familiar company of his friends. he had quite missed them the past week. though preoccupied with wooseok, there had been a fluttering at the back of his mind. like he was forgetting something of importance. 

 

“i wanted to be.” shinwon was all sulky, ridiculous as usual. “badges were pretty cool.”

 

“i’ll get you a badge.” hui said reassuringly, patting his football-pad like shoulders. “it’ll say ‘loudest bitch ever’ on it.” 

 

“i’ll wear it proudly.” he fake sniffled, rubbing his eyes dramatically. 

 

“will there be alcohol at your house?” yanan didn’t forget to ask, because that was all the incentive he needed to come over most days. 

 

“of course, who do you think i am?” hui scoffed, looking quite offended. why he was friends with absolute drama queens, he had yet to know. 

 

“fine. we’ll be there.” yanan shrugged, turning to look at wooseok once again. “just dial back some of the insanity, would you? he’s been on earth for a week, he doesn’t need to see shinwon wasted, ass out, doing a rendition of britney spears’  _ toxic _ .” that was one memory he very much so wanted to forget. 

 

“don’t worry it’s not that kind of hangout session.” hui shook his head, “we just wanted to get a little tipsy and enjoy a night together?” his tone read  _ ‘is that such a hard thing to believe? _ ’ and yes, it was. his friends normally got together and drunk so much someone passed out in a place they definitely shouldn’t had been sleeping. like a dumpster, or the roof of their neighbor’s car. 

 

“we haven’t heard from you in a week, y’know?”

 

“is that your way of trying to guilt me into coming because it’s not working and i already said yes.” 

 

“nope.” hui’s eyes crinkled into little crescent moons as he smiled, and it was heartwarming, yanan can’t lie. hui was like the sun, bright and warm all the time. you would think that as a vampire he’d be somewhat broody, bloodthirsty and the slightest bit evil. hui was just...nice. 

 

he was genuine to every single person he met unless he was looking for his lunch. he never hesitated when it came to being there for his friends or helping someone who truly needed it. hui made yanan want to be a better demon. and not to say that yanan was blaming hui that he had the heart to take wooseok in but; he’s blaming hui. 

 

“it’s my way of saying that i missed you, you big bag of rocks.” hui rolled his eyes, “a week to me is like nothing but a few days without your sarcasm and i start to get bored.” 

 

“understandable.” yanan nodded, “whatever would i do without your screeching and weirdly expansive knowledge of musicals?” as a group they’d seen the hunchback of notre dame at least 3 times already. 

 

“die.” shinwon deadpanned, doing unenthusiastic jazz hands. he was just lazily waving his hands around really. 

 

“i tried to set myself on fire and the loss of hui’s presence in my life is what’s going to kill me? unbelievable.” 

 

his friend’s faces darkened at the mention and he winced, feeling the energy in the room drop slightly. too soon, he guessed. 

 

“we’ll be there.” yanan repeated, shuffling awkwardly along the tile. “want me to bring anything?” 

 

“just the cutie on the couch thanks.” shinwon smirked, making a little pleased sound at the back of his throat. 

 

“fine but when i show up empty handed you can’t complain.” yanan warned, not that their complaining would affect him any way. he was too used to it. 

  
  


_________

  
  


they did show up empty handed, a half an hour late because yanan wouldn’t grant hui or shinwon the satisfaction of showing up on time. wooseok was visibly nervous at his side, trembling in yanan’s black long sleeve and denim jacket, biting at his bottom lip. when he tried to take a step closer to the door, the angel’s hand curled around the hem of the hoodie he was wearing, not strong enough to stop him but yanan paused anyway. 

 

“w-what if they don’t like me?” wooseok whispered when yanan just gazed at him and it satisfied him slightly that he didn’t have to push wooseok to get him to speak his mind. the other boy was opening up to him it seemed, little by little. 

 

“my friends like anyone with or without a pulse that’ll laugh at their bad jokes.” yanan casually shrugged because it was true. regardless, it was quite impossible to dislike someone like wooseok, just by looking at him you could tell he wasn’t meant to be hated. 

 

“that doesn’t help.” yanan could see him starting to frown, pulling harder on the fabric balled up in his hands. “i won’t understand their jokes, how am i supposed to laugh at them?” 

 

“i didn’t mean it that literally.” the demon continued his trek forward, wooseok having no choice but to follow as they were still attached. “they’ll like you and if they don’t, i’ll make ‘em.” 

 

wooseok’s face scrunched up like he didn’t know what that meant but could tell it was bad, opening his mouth to protest more but yanan was already pushing through the door like he owned the place. and he might have slammed it a little too hard against the wall as a fuck you to hui for breaking into his house but it was a pretty easy way to get everyone’s attention. 

 

hyojong’s head peeked up over the armrest of the sofa he was sprawled over and his eyes lit up, completely ignoring the fact that there was now a door-knob shaped hole in his wall. his wings fluttered excitedly as he sat up, blonde hair a messy heap on his forehead. 

 

hyojong was quite interesting to look at and yanan didn’t mean that in a rude way, he meant exactly that; interesting. his wings weren’t hard to miss, they were tucked closely to his back but just wide enough that the long curled tips could be seen peeking over his shoulders. they looked light to the touch as if they were made out of hundreds of tiny webs, felt or something equally as soft. they glimmered under the light, a stunning iridescent green that blended up into a buttermilk cream color at the very top. 

 

his cheeks and nose were naturally a bright pink so it looked like he was blushing all the time, something the pixie despised. hyojong sort of looked like he was always sparkling, a glow around him that even humans could see, and he could make it shine brighter and brighter depending on who the person was. 

 

the blond called it a pixie’s allure, a tool that came in handy against creeps who thought it was okay to touch his wings without permission or who called him a  _ fairy _ as a derogatory term knowing damn well that he wasn’t one. yanan thought it was really fucking cool that one of his closest friends could light up like a lamp and bring six foot tall grown men to their knees. 

 

the demon could tell wooseok was a bit overwhelmed already as yanan closed the door behind him and hyojong hopped over, pulling them both into a hug. 

 

“an angel, huh?” he said as a greeting, pinching one of yanan’s cheeks because he knew he hated it. 

 

“damn you’re tall.” was the second thing that left his mouth and his eyes trailed up wooseok’s long frame, lingering on yanan’s jacket wrapped around him. his lips quirked at the corners and  when they made eye contact yanan just shook his head. were all of his friends just going to assume he was sleeping with the angel? probably. 

 

“thank you?” wooseok tried to say but ended up asking, curling back into himself when the pixie let go. 

 

“i’m hyojong.” 

 

“wooseok.” 

 

“too sober right now.” yanan groaned and raised a hand just in time to catch the bottle hui threw across the room at him in response. 

 

“it would’ve been really funny if that hit you in the face.” shinwon snorted from his spot on the giant beanbag in the corner, a christmas gift he bought for hui last year so he could take comfier naps at his house. in other words, shinwon was somehow simultaneously the best and the worst. 

 

“i’m sorry i can’t hear you over the sound of this beer opening.” yanan definitely did not stick out his tongue before he took his first sip, moving further into the room, suddenly hyper aware of the way wooseok copied his movements, staying close to his side. 

 

the house was quite intimidating in size, at least three times the size of yanan’s own apartment because yanan didn’t live for the flare of things, he liked simplicity. hui and hyojong however, were the complete opposite. 

 

hui had enough money to buy half of the properties in the tristate area, something yanan was surprised he hadn’t done already. when hyojong offered for them to move in together, the pixie had been expecting a nice cozy 2-story residence in the middle of the suburbs, maybe even a white picket fence if they wanted to get classy. what he got instead was a house the size of a small mansion. 

 

and then hyojong put a ball pit in it. so there was that. 

 

“i’m hyunggu!” the incubus introduced himself next from where he was sat on a taller man’s lap, sipping vodka through a straw because none of his friends could be normal for more than two seconds. 

 

hyunggu’s hair peeked out from under his hat, newly dyed a fiery red catching yanan off guard. the last time he had seen the younger man it was a blue so dark it looked black. it had been purple before that. hyunggu got bored of things easily; of hobbies, songs, even people. it was no surprise that he was the same way about his hair. 

 

yanan could tell wooseok was slightly thrown off as well, though not by the color of anyone’s hair, but the way the muscled forearms wrapped tighter around hyunggu’s frame.  

 

“‘m yuto.” was muffled as he mumbled into the back of hyunggu’s neck so the japanese boy sat up a little straighter, peeking over his boyfriend’s shoulder to wave. “nice to meet you.” 

 

it still shocked him at times how well the two of them fit together. yanan despised cheesy sayings but since the day they met, they had clicked together like two pieces of a puzzle. it was no surprise to anyone when hyunggu chose the kitsune as his mate. it seemed that yuto was someone hyunggu could probably spend a thousand years with and never grow tired of. 

 

yanan tried to hold back a chuckle at the way wooseok awkwardly waved back and pushed the angel forward to sit down on the loveseat. there were two velvet-like sofas in the center of the room, placed in front of the biggest television yanan would probably ever see in his life. there were plants in pots on the ground, on the shelves of the entertainment system, some hanging from higher up, all taken care of by hyojong. the house was ridiculously expensive, to the extent that it made yanan cringe, but it was pretty. 

 

“so you’re yanan’s,” hyunggu paused, looking like he was searching for the right word. “ _ ‘friend’ _ , right?” 

 

yanan could almost hear the quotation marks, the words dripping with something like mirth. he couldn’t blame him he supposed, yanan didn’t have many (any) companions outside of his already small friend group, everyone else just pissed him off. 

 

yanan knew hyunggu didn’t mean to sound condescending, he was just like that at times. blunt and unrelenting (yanan was friends with him for a reason). thankfully wooseok couldn’t tell the difference and just nodded shyly. 

 

“i-i guess so.” he glanced at yanan out of the corner of his eyes like he was making sure it was the right thing to say, getting a small nod in return. 

 

it was at that moment that yanan realized he too, didn’t know what to refer to wooseok as. they didn’t fit the traditional concept of friendship. though looking around the room he could say that about anyone he laid eyes on. but yanan saving the angel from freezing to death in the middle of the woods didn’t exactly make them  _ friends. _ besides, yanan had only known the kid for a couple of weeks. it took hui almost a year to gain the demon’s trust. 

 

and despite all his friends’ assumptions, he wasn’t banging the angel either. although, wooseok did steal his bed and slept in it every night, did that make them roommates? he wasn’t quite sure, and in hindsight, it didn’t matter much anyways. 

 

yanan was surprised when wooseok started to speak again, ears glowing bright red as he did so. 

 

“how long have you known yanan?” wooseok’s voice was timid but under that his curiosity poked through. for wooseok, meeting his friends was one of the only indications that yanan was more than just the demon he saw him as. so he let him ask his questions. 

 

“it’s been a little over three decades for me.” hui piped up, face twisted playfully because knowing yanan for that long was  _ obviously _ torture. “been trying to get rid of him for years.” 

 

“you told me you missed me earlier.” yanan huffed, taking a sip of the light brown liquid. it wasn’t the best alcohol he had ever tasted but again, yanan was simple. not that he could get wasted anyway, he was too busy babysitting an angel. 

 

“i lied.” 

 

“i’ve only known yanan for like two years?” hyunggu tilted his head, giggling when yuto nuzzled deeper into the bare skin of his neck. their love was nauseating. “i met him through hyojong.” 

 

“it was like a domino effect,” yanan explained, “i met hui first, he and hyojong were always together so meeting him was inevitable. they introduced me to shinwon, shinwon introduced me to hyunggu and then hyunggu and yuto became attached at the hip so they became a package deal.” he sighed, exasperated, “and now i’m stuck with them.” his friends didn’t bat an eye at his dramatics. 

 

“yanan didn’t like me at all when he met me.” hyunggu burst into his loud, cackle-like laughter, shinwon following soon after. 

 

“me either!” the man laughed from where he was still spread out on the beanbag and that graduated into him choking on a pretzel, coughing it up, swallowing it and then laughing more. 

 

“i thought you both were idiots.” yanan deadpanned, reaching for his second beer, “now i know for sure that you are.” 

 

“you just didn’t like me because you wanted to be the only big bad demon in the area.” hyunggu said in a sugary sweet mocking voice, even getting an eye roll from his own boyfriend. 

 

“y-you’re a demon too?” wooseok voice came out in a tiny squeak, tucking his legs in just a little bit tighter. something else wooseok would have to get used to; being around creatures that ‘went bump in the night’. yanan knew quite a lot of them. 

 

speaking of creatures, yuto finally pushed hyunggu off of his lap to flick his lighter and spark something up that looked like a joint. the orange glow reflected in his fox-like eyes, one red, the other a swirling stormy gray. it was funny that while yuto looked intimidating, out of most people in the room he was the tamest as if he didn’t harness the power to make lightning crack with a single blink. 

 

“hyunggu’s a type of demon, yeah.” yuto blew out the smoke in a heavy breath, body angled away from the angel so he wouldn’t catch any second hand smoke. “he serves a completely different purpose than say, why yanan was created.” 

 

“like what?” 

 

it was cute how wooseok kept asking questions, head tilted like a confused puppy and yanan could tell he was genuinely interested, leaning forward with a want to know more. but at the same time, he was scared. 

 

scared to be in this new environment, surrounded by people that he didn’t know yet was fully aware that they were dangerous. terrified because the person that brought him there was seemingly the most so. and yet he still was still burning with curiosity. 

 

wooseok was brave. 

 

hyunggu winced at the question and took a long pause to figure out how to phrase his words. “incubi and succubi by definition are sex demons who appear in your dreams to ‘do the do’.” 

 

“he’s not five, ggu.” yuto snorted, running a hand through his slightly black hair, styled like he had washed it, dried it and hadn’t touched it since. hyunggu stuck his tongue out at him, snatching the joint from his fingers. 

 

“hyunggu traditionally would seduce a nice lady so he can give her his demon semen, make her have his devil spawn and potentially kill her in the process.” shinwon plopped onto the floor as he spoke nonchalantly, paying no mind to the way wooseok’s eyes doubled in size, frozen with surprise. 

 

“but i don’t do any of that!” hyunggu protested, waving his hands in the air like a mad man. “i swear!” 

 

“show us the horns!” hui started to hoot and holler, falling onto the floor in a fit of giggles when hyunggu pulled his beret down over his eyes in response.  _ chaos.  _

 

yanan tapped wooseok’s knee reassuringly, the angel didn’t even flinch. “hyunggu really doesn’t do any of those things, if he did yuto would be pissed.” 

 

“yeah! i’m the only person you should be giving your demon semen to.” yuto pouted, scrunching up his nose when his only answer was a cloud of smoke being blown into his face. 

 

“you know that you are.” hyunggu threw his legs over yuto’s lap because he couldn’t go a minute without touching the other man, huffing. wooseok awkwardly looked away. 

 

“yeah but i like hearing you say it.” 

 

“don’t be gross.” shinwon whined from his position on the floor. 

 

“you wish you had a love so pure, so irrevocable, so unrelenting-” 

 

“i will stab you both.” yanan slammed his beer down on the table, knocking a shot glass off of the table and smashing it to bits by accident. wooseok did flinch that time, at his words and his actions. “my bad.” 

 

“i’ll get something for the glass!” hyojong bounced up, wings tittering, snatching yanan by the back of the collar as he did so. 

 

“why.” was all that came out of his mouth as he let hyojong pull him to the kitchen, not having to look to know that hui was tagging along. 

 

their kitchen was quite literally the size of yanan’s living room and their fridge was so fancy it had a screen built into it that kind of pissed yanan off. but hui and hyojong always had the good snacks so he let it be. 

 

“why does your little angel look so petrified by everything?” hyojong tutted, tapping him on the nose. “one would think you haven’t been taking care of him correctly.” 

 

“because he  _ is _ petrified by everything.” yanan shoved him into the refrigerator door in retaliation, “he hasn’t even been on earth for a month yet.” 

 

“oh i forgot to tell them that.” hui chimed in from where he was stuffing both hands under hyojong’s shirt making the pixie screech at how cold they were. he looked only slightly apologetic. “yeah, angel boy is as pure as they come.” 

 

“and you left him with the incubus and shinwon?” hyojong raised an eyebrow, not making any moves to find something to help clean up yanan’s mess. “i would say yuto as well but he’s harmless.” 

“you’re the one who dragged me in here!” yanan accused, rifling through their cabinets for something to snack on. hui didn’t bat an eye, it was as if the demon paid rent there. 

 

“well yeah because i’m nosy and i wanted to know more about the angel but i guess there isn’t much  _ to  _ know.” hyojong blew out a breath, finally grabbing a broom and a dustpan, gliding out of the room with such grace only he could achieve. 

 

“what i wanna know is how long you’re gonna keep him around.” hui remained, leveling yanan with a look that said a lot more than his words did. 

 

“however long he wants to be, i guess.” yanan supposed, it wasn’t something he had taken into consideration or really thought about at all. wooseok seemed to have found some kind of contentment where he was. that was enough for them both. 

 

“what if one day he wants to leave?” the vampire pushed, “he’s decided you taught him all he needs to know about how shitty the world is and wants to move on?” 

 

“i wouldn’t care.” yanan raised an eyebrow, unsure where the conversation was going or why it was even happening. hui was one conniving son of a bitch he knew that much. 

 

“you would let that innocent angel leave knowing how many people would kill, have killed for souls like that?” hui scoffed, looking all too proud of himself. “i don’t buy it.” 

 

“the things they would do to him, i’m sure they would torture him before they let him go-if they even let him go. they might just keep him, the idea of an angel slave is quite appealing, watching his soul get darker and darker, watching the innocence bleed from his eyes-” 

 

“you can shut up now.” yanan gritted through his teeth, unwilling to take the bait. he knew a goad when he saw one. 

 

“just think about it.” he flashed his sunshine smile and like that, he was gone. cold air whistled through the cracked open window in the kitchen, sending a shiver down yanan’s back. he looked around the empty room and shoved a handful of chips into his mouth. he hated his friends. 

 

he could hear them, loud and rowdy only a few feet away but there in the corner of the room, tucked between the marble countertops, it was desolate. though yanan wasn’t left alone for long. 

 

“yanan, yanan, yanan,” a slurred voice whined into his ear, hushed in a way like they thought they were whispering but definitely were not. 

 

wooseok curled his arms around yanan’s bicep, pressing his warm, flushed cheek against the slightly taller man’s shoulder. 

 

“wooseok, wooseok, wooseok,” the demon drawled in response, not having to turn around to know the angel was drunk.  _ you leave the kid with your friends for ten minutes and _ ...actually that might’ve been his first mistake. 

 

“don’t copy me.” wooseok protested the way a kid would, all pouty and way too intoxicated from one drink. yanan knew the angel had never drunk alcohol before, he didn’t even like coffee, so it must’ve hit him way harder than everyone else. 

 

wooseok’s hand clenched onto the margarita can tighter as yanan pried it from his fingers, even though he could feel that it was nearly empty. 

 

“who gave this to you?” 

 

“shinwon!” wooseok bounced on his toes, ratting the modelesque man out without a care. he grinned, looking like happier than yanan had ever seen him. “he said it would make me feel good and now i feel really good, isn’t that so cool? at first i thought he was lying but i still drunk it because i didn’t wanna be rude.” 

 

“that’s alcohol, hun.” 

 

“oh,” wooseok paused, looking as though he was contemplating then simply said,  “oops.” 

 

“yeah, oops.” yanan repeated, crushing the can and throwing it in the direction of where the trash bins were, uncaring if he made it or not. “don’t trust that guy, he’s a menace.” 

 

wooseok inched in, does eyes all sparkly half a foot away from yanan’s face. “do you think your friends like me?” 

 

“i don’t know, why don’t you ask them?” yanan shrugged, clapping a hand over wooseok’s mouth when he opened it wide. the last thing he needed was wooseok screaming and his friends screeching back. he’d have a headache for weeks. 

 

“i wasn’t actually going to ask them.” wooseok mumbled into his palm, voice hushed when he let go, “they’re kinda scary.” 

 

“scarier than me?” yanan leaned in close, just to make the angel jerk in surprise, full lips parting with the action. 

 

“nobody’s scarier than you.” wooseok whispered and while normally that would fill him with a sense of satisfaction, he didn’t feel much of..anything. 

 

“damn right.” he smirked anyway, sighing when wooseok went right back to clenching onto his arm as if he hadn’t just admitted how terrifying the demon was. 

 

when yanan moved slightly to the side, wooseok followed, stumbling over his own long legs like a baby deer, clumsy and uncoordinated. the demon picked up wooseok’s hand and moved it, like he taking out the trash or something equally as nasty, sighing when it took its place right back on his arm. 

 

“do you have to do that?” 

 

“do what?” wooseok blinked up at him, genuinely confused. his cheeks were blotchy, red as mcintosh apples and every time his lips curled up at the corners, they puffed up as well.

 

“nothing.” yanan shook his head and unconsciously the angel clung harder. 

 

they both jumped at the loud bang that was hyunggu crashing into the doorway, thankfully more drunk than wooseok and yanan put together. “stop being antisocial and join us in the living room, we wanna teach wooseok what mario kart is.” 

 

shinwon popped up from behind him, hooking his chin over hyunggu’s shoulder, digging in until the incubus slapped him away. his friends never grew tired of behaving like children and he could tell already that wooseok would somehow fit right in, no matter how peculiar it was. a group of dark creatures and tainted humans all chummy with the purest being yanan had ever laid eyes on. somehow it worked. 

 

wooseok’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of the wii console, eyes alight with wonder as yuto showed him how to pick his character, how to steer and somehow he understood quicker than when yanan was teaching him how to use the microwave. his whole body shook with laughter as he played, even though he was losing, as if just taking part in the game was enough to fill him with joy. 

 

his mouth parted in concentration, eyebrows furrowed and yanan didn’t realize how hard he was staring until hui cleared his throat, his own brows raised like a question. 

 

“what?” his voice was gruff, tearing his eyes away from the angel and focusing on the screen like he had been watching all along. 

 

“you like him.” hui said softly, surely, like it was a fact of life. 

 

“he’s alright.” 

 

“don’t even try to deny it.” the vampire scoffed, pushing him over so he could sprawl his body out over the couch cushions. “i’ve never seen you look fond,  _ ever,  _ and that look right there was the closest thing to it.” 

 

“shut up.” 

 

“and now you’re deflecting. so i know i’m right.” 

 

“i won! look, look, yanan, i won!” wooseok’s voice was delightfully high pitched, surprising for the usually deep voiced angel. 

 

wooseok turned and grinned excitedly at yanan, waving his fists around happily as yuto and hyunggu applauded, cheered and even wolf-whistled. it was quite clear that they cheated, slowing down just enough that wooseok wouldn’t notice, or going off the track and taking forever to find their way back on. 

 

yanan smiled back in a split second like it was something he didn’t have to think twice about. they started up a new game, wooseok bouncing up and down on the loveseat with vigor. 

 

“you should be careful.” hui hummed, taking a swig of his drink, passing it to the demon who sighed and sunk deeper into the sofa. his body felt heavy all of sudden, burdensome. “you just might fall for that angel.” 

 

yanan shot him a look from under his lazy eyelids, “not. gonna. happen.” hui didn’t dignify him with a response, instead they watched the other men play; screaming over each other, loud voices overlapping. it was hectic, noisy as always and comfortable, familiar. 

 

except now wooseok was in the middle of it, small whispers now outbursts, blending in like a sheep in wolf’s clothing. yanan wondered just how long that tranquil, unmindful glow would last. 

  
  
  



	5. Moth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are finally back with a new chapter! This chapter is a little earlier than the others have been, but I hope it's just as good as those have been! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I'm excited to see where pixieyutoda and I are going to take this story, as we get more into it.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and enjoy!

Before Wooseok could understand what was happening, he was living with the demon.

 

Wooseok had been staying with Yanan since the night he’d landed on earth, so Wooseok hadn’t thought too much of it. He was comfortable stay in Yanan’s apartment, or as comfortable as he could be, staying with a demon. There was still so much about Yanan that Wooseok didn’t know, so much he feared. But Yanan was keeping Wooseok safe, so the angel let it be.

 

Yanan took as good of care of Wooseok as he could manage. He let Wooseok wear some of his own clothing, since they were close to the same size. He made sure Wooseok was well fed, and comfortable, and he’d even introduced Wooseok to some of his own friends. They were eccentric, and intimidating, to say the least, but they were nice to Wooseok. Despite the way Yanan had snapped at them, they really cared for Yanan, that much was clear to the angel. It was odd to Wooseok, how a demon could have such kind friends, and be so kind, when he was a demon. Demons were evil, by nature, yet everything Wooseok learned about Yanan pointed to him being a good person.

 

Yanan was extraordinarily nice to Wooseok. The angel was grateful for what the other man was doing. But there was no wat he was _actually_ a good person. He was a demon. He’d killed an uncountable number of people. He’d killed someone the night Wooseok had met him—it still made Wooseok’s stomach churn. And there was no way Yanan would stop killing, any time soon. He was a demon, it was what he did, what he had always done. Demons were like that. Wooseok had to remind himself that Yanan, despite what he seemed, was not a good person.

 

Good person or not, Wooseok was living with him. It happened the previous week, when Wooseok had been thinking about anything but his living situation. Until then, he’d just been  staying with the demon, until one of them decided it was time for him to get a grip on the real world, and move out onto his own. He still had no idea how this earth worked, besides the very basics and what Yanan had taught him, but he was going to have to get used to it at one point or another, they both knew that.

 

Wooseok had been sitting on the couch after Yanan made him breakfast—his favourite chocolate chip pancakes and a glass of strawberry milk. He was watching something animated and colourful on the television, bright words and effects popping up and keeping the angel entertained.

 

“Hey, angel-face,” Yanan said, white fabric balled up in his hand. He was standing in the entryway to the hall, looking down at the younger man with cat-like eyes. Wooseok looked up at him, used to the nickname. He didn’t exactly like it, but he did suppose it was accurate enough. He was an angel, which meant that his face was, too. “Do you want this sweater?” he held it out, the sweater white and knit. It was far too big for either of them, but Wooseok was finding that he rather liked wearing oversized sweaters and hoodies. It looked soft, so Wooseok nodded. Yanan tossed the sweater in his lap—it _was_ soft. “I think I got it a couple years ago, but I haven’t worn it since, just because I don’t wear white that often, anymore.”

 

“Why not?” Wooseok asked curiously, eyes flickering between Yanan’s face and the action that was happening on the television.

 

“I just don’t,” the demon shrugged. He was rushing his words. “Besides, your shoulders are broader than mine, so it’ll probably look better on you, and I figured you’d want to own some actual clothing, instead of just borrowing mine, and hey, do you want to live here, permanently?”

 

“Oh,” Wooseok said, eyes widening at Yanan’s offer. He hadn’t expected the demon to ask him something like that. “I don’t know where else I would go, at this point, and I don’t mind being here with you.” That was, after the first couple of weeks. It definitely took some time to get used to living with a person, much less a demon. Yanan was up in the middle of the night, and in the bathroom when Wooseok was trying to shower, and sitting on the bed or couch while Wooseok was trying to sleep. Yanan was always there, and Wooseok wasn’t used to that. Yanan’s apartment was a lot different than Heaven, but Wooseok didn’t think that was necessarily a bad thing. “As long as you don’t mind—”

 

“Wouldn’t have offered if I minded,” Yanan said quickly, running a hand through his inky black hair. His eyelashes kissed the tops of his cheeks when he blinked. Wooseok had spent a lot of the past month looking at Yanan. IT was like he’d memorized every detail of the demons face, except that the demon’s face kept changing. His eyelashes would appear longer, or his lips would have more of a natural pout to them than Wooseok had noticed before. He wondered how long it would take for Yanan’s face to be a fixed object, in his mind. “You’re already practically living here but I could get another bed and we can share the room, or… whatever. You should have your own stuff, so it doesn’t feel like you’re just crashing on my couch.”

 

Wooseok nodded, “the couch isn’t very comfortable.” For the first bit of Wooseok staying with Yanan, the demon stayed on the couch. It was a nice gesture, but Wooseok felt bad for making Yanan sleep on the couch in his home, so Wooseok was the one who usually took the couch, during the nights. Sometimes, he’d accidentally fall asleep in Yanan’s bed. It was nice of Yanan to offer so much to someone who’d began life on earth with so little. Wooseok wasn’t sure he would have regularly accepted, but he had no where else to go, and Yanan took good care of him. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. He was still weary of constantly having a demon around, but it was Yanan. They’d gotten closer, as time had passed. Good person or not, there was something terrifyingly comforting about Yanan.

 

The demon nodded, and sat next to Wooseok. He was close enough that their knees bumped, and neither of them moved away when they did. “I know it’s weird living with me, but I kind of like having you around.” He frowned down at his lap, as if his own words irritated him. Then, he looked up at the angel and gave half of a smile, and it was like the expression had never happened.

 

Wooseok’s lips twitched into a small smile he tried to repress. “You do?” he asked, looking up at Yanan under his eyelashes. Yanan was nice, but it was rare for him to say such nice things. This, coming from Yanan, was like a full-blown compliment.

 

“Sure I do,” Yanan shrugged, fingers fiddling with a piece of yarn from the sweater that was over Wooseok’s lap. “It’s not as quiet here, anymore, since you’re always watching these animes.”

 

He looked up at the screen, “I like them,” he admitted. They were fast-paced, and funny, and they kept him busy and entertained while Yanan wasn’t around.

 

Yanan smiled. “I don’t understand why you like them so much, but they’re okay. It’s cute that you like them so much.” He pat the angel on the knee, eyes following the colourful animation on the screen. “I don’t really get what being an angel is like, so let me know if you need something… extra. I don’t want to totally fuck up, but I’m still a demon, so I probably will.” Wooseok looked back at him, confused as to why Yanan was suddenly talking about this. “If you’re going to live here _permanently_ , I’ll try not to freak you out too much.” There was an implied ‘ _no_ _promises_ ’ that Wooseok understood. They were two opposite beings. Wooseok was a fallen angel, damned on earth for his sins. And Yanan. Well, Yanan was something of the embodiment of sin.

 

Wooseok pursed his lips in a nod. “I’m not used to what you are. I’m not used to anything, yet.”

 

Yanan chuckled in agreement. “We’re not as bad as you think,” he assured, patting Wooseok on the thigh. He sounded so sure of himself, Wooseok was almost inclined to believe him. Except, all of Wooseok’s life, he’d been taught how terrible and vile demons were. Just because Yanan was nice, didn’t make him any different. That was only on the surface.

 

Wooseok nodded, eyes finding a patch of carpet to stare at. He didn’t like looking at Yanan when he remembered what he was, and all of the things he’d done. He didn’t know if he could believe that Yanan was better than Wooseok thought, because he remembered the way the dead body looked, his first night on earth. He remembered the smell, as Yanan lit the body on fire without so much as a second thought.

 

“Really,” Yanan said, a crease forming between his eyebrows. He moved back on the couch to get a better look at Wooseok, as if what he was saying was that important. “I know what you think of demons, I know that’s what you’re _supposed_ to think, and that’s fine, but you have to understand that I’m not all that bad. You can’t be afraid of me, if you’re going to live here.”

 

Wooseok clasped his hands in his lap. He could feel his tense his shoulders were, like even his body was afraid to give in to Yanan, too much. “I know,” he said so quietly, it was almost a whisper. “I’m not afraid of you.” The words tasted superficial on his tongue, like the waxy discount chocolate Yanan had given him. It wasn’t nearly as good as the real thing.

 

Yanan raised his eyebrows when Wooseok looked back up at him. “Bullshit, you aren’t,” he said, making the angel flinch, just a little bit. Wooseok had gotten really good about not flinching to whatever Yanan did, but some things shook him up more than he’d care to admit. Yanan was a powerful being who could undoubtedly kill Wooseok in the blink of an eye. He had a good excuse to flinch. “You’re terrified of me, kid.”  He said the last word softer, like he was trying to make up for making the angel jump.

 

Wooseok wasn’t afraid. It was true. Wooseok wasn’t afraid of Yanan. Mostly. A bit. “Can you blame me?” he said quietly, looking up at the demon. He wondered how Yanan had known.

 

Yanan was evil, and violent, and handsome, and cunning. He was strong, and he was smart, the two making up an unstoppable force. Wooseok was sure Yanan could do whatever he put his mind to, whether that was scaring someone out of their own skin, or lighting fires with the snap of his fingers, or killing a thousand people within the span of forty-eight hours. Wooseok knew he could do it, and he knew how easy it would be for Yanan. He had every single reason to be afraid of the man that sat before him. Even if Yanan made him breakfast, and gave him sweaters, and let Wooseok cling to him the one time he got drunk. Even if he did all of this for Wooseok, he was still dark energy and wildfires, and his words were like the split of a maraschino cherry—sugary sweet and coated in red. Even though Yanan let Wooseok sleep in his bed, and wear his hoodies, and watched cooking shows with Wooseok, he was still a demon. It would have been more concerning if Wooseok hadn’t been afraid.

 

Yanan sighed, his dark pink lips parting. “Fine,” he acquiesced. Even he understood that he was deadly. “Just try not to be so scared of me, alright?”

 

Wooseok swallowed, sinking into the beige cushions of the couch. “I’ll try.”

 

Yanan smiled, slumping back next to the angel. He grabbed the remote to turn the show up, so he could watch it with Wooseok. The outsides of their thighs were pressed together. “Me too.”

 

-

 

That was that. Wooseok was living with Yanan now. Yanan was living with Wooseok. It was an unfortunate pairing, to say the least. Wooseok didn’t understand how he was supposed to get used to Yanan. He didn’t know how he was supposed to stop being afraid of the demon.

 

He wanted to stop being afraid. He still sometimes when Yanan snuck up on him. When Yanan touched him, he felt like moving away. Yanan’s hands were nice, and he was gentle, but Wooseok could only remember the way that the woman’s blood stained his hands crimson. Every time he was about to allow himself to feel comforted by the demon’s touch, he was reminded of how the water ran orange in the bathroom of the diner. He was reminded of the shiny black his eyes were, when they weren’t the soft brown colour that took Wooseok a week to notice. He remembered the night he met Yanan, and how powerful he looked in the moonless night. Even if Yanan was nice to him, he couldn’t get it out of his head. Even if Wooseok liked the way Yanan’s face looked when he smiled, there was something that twisted in his gut every time he remembered that Yanan was a demon. He was reminded that Yanan was a _killer_. And that scared him.

 

It was getting later, now, a week having passed since his living situation became permanent. Yanan’s apartment—their apartment—was cast in dark blues and dim yellows, the white walls painted by the sky. The sun was already set, outside, the quite rumble of the city on the other side of the walls.

 

Wooseok was sitting on the couch, where he usually was when Yanan wasn’t with him. He wasn’t watching anime, this time, he was lying down under the soft red blanket Yanan had bought him as a housewarming gift. It smelled like laundry detergent, sort of like Yanan did. Wooseok was only a little bit cold, mostly from where his ankles stuck out from under the blanket. He’d yet to find a blanket long enough to cover his whole body, so he usually just wore socks to bed, despite Yanan’s stigma against it.

 

Wooseok didn’t really feel like sleeping, right now, but he didn’t know what else to do. Yanan usually kept Wooseok company, but he’d been in his room for most of the day. They’d talked a few times, when Yanan had almost scared the life right out of Wooseok while he was in the bathroom, and when they’d eaten a brief lunch of sandwiches and strawberry milk. Other than that, though, Yanan seemed to want to be kept shut up in his room all day, and Wooseok didn’t want to disturb him just because he was bored. They usually talked all day, or at least watched some shows together, or just sat silently in the other’s presence. Without the familiar company of the demon, Wooseok’s day felt lacking. He’d gotten so used to Yanan being around that just one day without him felt off. He didn’t know what to do all day, without Yanan around. He felt bored, and lost. Lonely.

 

He was upset with himself for feeling lonely. He knew it was just because Yanan was the only person he actually knew, but about his day without that contact made his stomach hurt. Wooseok was afraid of Yanan, yet here he was, downright missing the demon. It was just too quiet in the apartment, all alone. Wooseok found himself lying on the couch, unable to sleep because he was wondering what Yanan was up to.

 

He wanted to fall asleep. He didn’t know why he couldn’t close his eyes. He sighed deeply, wishing he could go to sleep without wishing he’d talked more to Yanan, today.

 

A door creaked open, illuminating the living room with the light from Yanan’s room. Wooseok was about to sit up and see what the demon was doing, but he quickly realized that Yanan was sneaking across the carpet, not wanting to be heard. Wooseok closed his eyes so Yanan wouldn’t notice him, even though he didn’t know _why_ he didn’t want Yanan to see him. And then the front door opened, and Yanan was gone.

 

He didn’t usually leave this late. He usually stayed in his room until the morning, and then greeted Wooseok with a sleepy gaze and a breakfast. He knew Wooseok didn’t like being alone, especially in the dark, so he made sure to stay one room away, where Wooseok could find him, if he needed to. Wooseok didn’t know what it was, but there was a voice nagging in the back of his thoughts, telling him that something was wrong.

 

Wooseok sat up quickly, pushing the blanket off of himself. He toed his shoes on next to the door, wide eyes trying to see in the dark. There was something telling Wooseok to stop where he was, to stay in Yanan’s apartment. Another, much louder, much more appealing voice was telling Wooseok that something was wrong, and that Wooseok needed to find out what it was.

 

And then Wooseok found himself walking down a sidewalk, the moon guiding him. Yan an was also guiding him, considering that he was only about twenty feet in front of him. Yanan was wearing the leather jacket he’d lent Wooseok so many nights ago. Wooseok could see the moonlight glinting off of the material. He was blending seamlessly into the shadows, escaping Wooseok’s vision whenever he passed trees or a building.

 

Wooseok couldn’t even feel the cool air of the night, despite the favt that he was wearing a simple t-shirt and some duck-print pajama bottoms. His mind was too preoccupied with finding out where Yanan was going. Even if it meant following Yanan across town. They were still what Yanan called ‘downtown,’ buildings surrounding them, nightlife hanging off of the edges of the city.

 

It seemed like the farther Wooseok followed him, the emptier it became. At first, when Wooseok had started following Yanan, there were people, and dogs, and life surrounding them, reassuring Wooseok that everything was going to be okay, as long as they stayed where it was safe. Yanan dipped between two buildings, and into the darkness. Wooseok had to rush to keep track of him, worried that he would lose track of the demon. If he lost Yanan, there was no way he was going to be able to ever find his way back. Now, there was barely anything going on around them, and Wooseok was feeling more along than he had since the night he fell.

 

There was something familiar about the night. It reminded Wooseok of the night he fell. It was pitch black, the night air frighteningly still. The only difference in the sky was the presence of the moon. It was dark, and shadowy, and quiet in the way that made Wooseok’s ears ring. It was the type of silence that Wooseok felt he would be able to hear any scream, and the stillness in the air almost guaranteed that he would. He wasn’t as scared as he had been, since now he knew a little more about life on earth, but he was still scared. Without Yanan, he would undoubtably be lost. He would be alone.

 

When Yanan slipped into a bar, Wooseok stopped dead in his tracks.

 

Yanan was just going to a bar. It was a totally normal thing to do. Wooseok had followed him all the way across town just to see him go into a bar. He’d probably waited this long to go out because he didn’t want to feel obligated to take Wooseok with him, like he had been for the past month. Besides, Yanan had always enjoyed the nighttime more than the day, so it made sense. Everything Wooseok was having suspicions about was cleared up in a second, leaving Wooseok to feel like he was ridiculous for even having them.

 

It occurred to Wooseok that he was now totally alone, in a place that seemed uninhabited by all creatures. And it was dark, in the way that strained Wooseok’s eyes. There was a streetlight, but it was dim, and it wasn’t helping Wooseok feel any less afraid. Goosebumps covered Wooseok’s bare arms as the cold finally reached his skin. The angel was lost, without Yanan to guide him. And he was scared.

 

Wooseok didn’t know what to do, so he stood with his back to the building opposite of the bar, waiting for an answer. Maybe he could wait for Yanan to leave the bar, so they could go home together. He didn’t like being alone in the dark—it made every bad thought he’d ever had come to the front of his mind until he was sweating, and afraid of the things in his own head. He could wait for Yanan to finish his drinks, so Yanan could guide him all the way to the apartment. He could wait all night, if he had to, against the cold brick wall. He didn’t want to go inside, to search for Yanan, to tell him he’d followed him all the way inside. He didn’t want to be any more of a burden to Yanan that he already was being, and already had been. He’d rather just wait, so he didn’t disturb the demon or take away from his fun. It couldn’t be too long, right?

 

Wooseok distracted himself by looking at the moths being drawn to the flickering orange of the streetlight. Moths were interesting creatures, to Wooseok. They were attracted to light to the point that it was dangerous; a fatal attraction. Moths got so close to a lamp, or the headlights of a car, or even an open flame, to the point that it would cause their untimely demise. They were a pretty sort of bug, in Wooseok’s opinion, but the thing they loved most and strove for was the thing that would most likely kill them. Something as simple as light. It was really the question of how insects could be so thoroughly tricked—lured—to their death by light, on such a grand scale.

 

Wooseok wondered if humans could be like moths. Humans seemed to crave whatever was bad for them, whether they knew it was bad, or not. They would keep reaching, and reaching for their sliver of light, but like a moth, they couldn’t tell if it was artificial or not. They couldn’t tell if it was at all attainable, but that didn’t lessen the vigor they existed with. They followed their light like moths followed the moon, without purpose, or thought. It was a fatal attraction, following the thing that was so dangerous to them. Just because they thought it was beautiful.

 

Wooseok wondered if that was why he’d followed Yanan all the way to this bar.

 

Even though he knew the demon was dangerous, he’d still followed him in Yanan’s natural habitat. Wooseok was in danger—of Yanan, of the night—but he was still here. He wondered if he was so drawn to Yanan just _because_ he was dangerous.

 

If Wooseok was a moth, Yanan was a crackling bonfire. There was no way Wooseok wasn’t going to get burnt up to ash, like dust in Yanan’s palm.

 

Just as the thought crossed Wooseok’s mind and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, Yanan came outside, his leather jacket draped around his shoulders. He was barely within the limit of the streetlight, but Wooseok could still see his feline features, turned up into a sharp smile. He walked like he owned the very cement he walked on, and the air that surrounded him. Yanan was the presence of a fire, and Wooseok so badly wanted to let his palms get burnt.

 

Yet, Wooseok was terrified of the way the fire would sear his skin, so he kept his distance. He always kept his distance, because Yanan was more powerful than any fire he could imagine.

 

Wooseok was about to approach him, to where he was haloed in orange. But then Yanan turned his shoulder, and Wooseok could see that there was another man with him, walking equally as confident as the demon was. They were walking along the side of the bar, talking in low voices Wooseok couldn’t pick up. Yanan laughed, though, a sound that Wooseok had grown accustomed to causing.

 

Wooseok just kept watching them. He watched them move toward the alley next to them, and followed them into a place darker than the last. The alley stunk of trash and alcohol, since they were right next to a bar. It was nearly pitch black, so Wooseok cold barely make out the features of the two men he was following, and it was likely they couldn’t see him at all. The only light that was catching Yanan’s features was the light of the moon, and Wooseok thought he understood the appeal of the moon to moths, for a second. It’s pale glow made Wooseok want to stare forever, at the way shadows accentuated the pout of Yanan’s lips, and the straightness of his nose.

 

Yanan pressed the man against the brick wall, the other man’s hands on the demon’s waist.

 

Like several other things that night, it made sense. Yanan liked men and had made that very clear to Wooseok. It was fine, Wooseok just wasn’t used the that sort of thing, since he’d been in Heaven his whole life. Yanan liked men, and that was why he was with this man. Wooseok knew he shouldn’t have been watching them, under these circumstances, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Even as Yanan leaned in, closer and closer, like he was about to kiss the man. Wooseok couldn’t pull his attention away. The demon leaned closer to the man, until their lips were almost touching. Wooseok wanted to look away, but there was something that made him want to keep looking. It was like how people were tempted to look at a solar eclipse, even if they absolutely weren’t supposed to. Yanan’s lips were so close to the other mans.

 

Wooseok was figuring out that it wasn’t only moths and humans that enjoyed the dangerous and unattainable. It was angels, too.

 

Yanan was moving faster than Wooseok’s eyes wanted to register, and his hand was wrapped around the man’s throat, holding him up against the wall. The man was gasping like a fish out of water, but Yanan didn’t hesitate to keep talking, saying something that the angel couldn’t hear. All he could hear was the way the mans struggled to breathe.

 

Wooseok was stuck once again with the need to run. He couldn’t, though—he was paralyzed. Yanan laughed, a cold, terrifying laugh that Wooseok had never heard before, much less caused him to make. Wooseok gasped, but luckily neither of the other two heard him. Yanan drew his free hand back, still holding the man against the wall. The man’s hands clawed at Yanan’s, trying to get access to breathe, again. But it was no use. Yanan wasn’t even phased. Yanan plunged his hand forward, forcing it through the man’s shirt, and into the center of his body. Blood immediately blossomed from around Yanan’s wrist, sputtering and spilling out from the man’s mouth, as well.

 

Wooseok could smell the sharp, metallic scent. His fingers were shaking, his knees wobbly. His stomach was churning, like he was about to throw up, and his head was spinning all the same. He couldn’t bare to look, yet no matter what he did, his body didn’t want to let him look away. Yanan was _killing_ this man, right in front of the angel.

 

Blood was running down the man’s chin, splattering when he coughed. He was struggling against Yanan, but the demon was strong, so his attempts were useless. Besides, Yanan had just run his hand straight through the man’s skin; he was bleeding out. His entire shirt was soaked in blood, both from his wound and from where he coughed it up. Yanan’s hand was on the inside of him, right alongside his organs. There was no way the man could even get Yanan to break a sweat. He was totally, completely defenseless against the overwhelming and dark power than was Yanan.

 

Yanan was more powerful than any human could comprehend. Wooseok could hardly comprehend it. Yanan may have been tall, and lithe, but he was strong. His body was strong, his tongue sharp like the blade of a knife. He was electrifyingly strong, every molecule of his being practically vibrating with intensity. There was no light in the alleyway, but there didn’t need to be—Yanan drew in every beam of light from the stars and moon. It was the opposite of the way moths flew towards light. Light was attracted to Yanan like it needed him to keep on shining. Yanan was fire, and wind, and inky, pulling darkness, and explosive heat. Wooseok was in awe. He was beyond terrified.

 

The demon let the man fall to the ground, his body limp, bending unnaturally when he hit the cement with a dull ‘ _thud!_ ’ Yanan took a step back to inspect his work, wiping blood off of his face with a hand. Flames erupted around the body, crackling a vibrant orange in the pitch black of the night.

 

Yanan turned away from the fire, and Wooseok could see the shiny, pure black of the demon’s eyes. Wooseok wanted to run, but his feet were still stuck to the pavement, sticky with the stillness of fear.

 

The demon gasped loudly, his eyes rolling away from black, back to the hue than Wooseok knew. With the whites of his eyes finally showing, Wooseok could actually see how wide his eyes were.

 

When he spoke, his voice was a shocked whisper. “Wooseok?” he asked, unmoving. “What the _hell_ are you doing here?”

 

Wooseok was shaking. His throat was tight. He opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ , but instead, tears started streaming down his face, and he trembled all the way down to his knees. His stomach twisted hard enough, and he retched, throwing up right there.

 

Yanan crossed over to Wooseok, kneeling next to him. “Wooseok?” he said softly. When Wooseok didn’t respond, the demon shuffled next to him. “Wooseok, are you okay? Wooseok, dude—angel face, come on. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

 

The angel shook his head, not in response to any question in particular. He sat up on his knees, making sure to not look at Yanan. He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything at all.

 

Yanan set his hand on Wooseok’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you were there, seriously. Why _are_ you here?” he sounded sincere. Wooseok was sure he looked sincere, too, but he couldn’t manage to take that into consideration, right now. The hand on Wooseok’s shoulder was soaked in drying brick-red blood, cracking where Yanan’s fingers bent. When he noticed Wooseok staring at it with wide eyes, he snapped it off of the angel’s shoulder, like he’d burnt his hand.

 

Wooseok wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It was hard to breathe, with the way he was heaving, tears rolling down and dripping off of his chin. “I followed you here,” Wooseok finally choked out, looking at the shadow Yanan cast on the pavement. It seemed darker than normal shadows. “I just wanted to see what you were doing, because you didn’t talk to me a lot today, I—I didn’t know you were going to—to—” another sob racked his body, and he was squeezing his eyes shut. He didn’t want to remember what he’d just seen, but the fire in front of him served as a cruel reminder.

 

Wooseok looked at Yanan, for the first time since Yanan had noticed him. His face was flecked in a black that Wooseok knew would have been red in any other light. His eyes were wide and glassy, focusing on Wooseok’s face. “If I had known you’d followed me, I wouldn’t have killed that guy.”

 

“Well, you did,” Wooseok said, looking away from Yanan’s face. The blood was making him queasy.

 

Yanan sighed. “Fucking hell, Wooseok, you shouldn’t have followed me.”

 

“I know that now,” Wooseok snapped. The harshness of his own words made him flinch. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know you were still killing people.” He stood to his full height, his legs still shaking underneath him. “I can’t believe you would do that.” More tears streamed from his eyes. He had finally gotten somewhat comfortable with the demon. He didn’t flinch every time the demon touched him, anymore. Now, all Wooseok could think about was how nonchalantly Yanan killed whoever he wanted.

 

“Look, kid,” Yanan said, his dark eyes narrowed at the angel. “I _do_ kill people. I’m a _demon_. Just because you’re living with me doesn’t mean I’m going to stop. You can’t expect me to do everything your way, because if it were the other way around, you wouldn’t survive.”

 

Wooseok knit his eyebrows. “I’m not asking you to do everything my way. I just don’t want you to kill innocent people.” He didn’t have the energy to argue with Yanan, right now. He felt exhausted, from following him out here, and how tense he’d been the whole time. The crying and throwing up didn’t help much, either.

 

“Innocent people?” Yanan scoffed, his voice raised. “Are you kidding me? I told you right off the bat that I only kill people who deserve it. That guy was a rapist, you don’t even _want_ to know the shit he’s done. Don’t give me that innocent people bullshit, Wooseok.”

 

He flinched at his name but started walking towards the entrance of the alleyway. “Oh,” Wooseok said. He didn’t know if that justified what Yanan had done. Of course, he couldn’t agree with rape—that was one of the worst things humans did. But murder, especially in the way Yanan had done it… it was awful. If anything, Yanan balanced out what the man did. It wasn’t good. But it wasn’t as bad as Wooseok had first thought.

 

Yanan put his hand on Wooseok’s shoulder to stop him. “Anyway,” he said, looking up at the angel. “I’m sorry.”

 

Wooseok shrugged his way out of Yanan’s touch. “You have blood on your hands,” was what he chose to say. “Please don’t touch me.”

 

If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn that Yanan flinched.

 

-

 

They walked home in silence. Wooseok didn’t know what more he could say, right now. Another time, perhaps, he could really get upset with Yanan and everything he’d done. But Wooseok was upset. With the man for being awful, with Yanan for killing him, with himself for following Yanan like he was some sort of moth that craved light.

 

Yanan led the way home, which Wooseok was grateful for. He didn’t know the way back, himself. Besides, Wooseok didn’t like being alone in the dark.

 

They got up to the apartment, and Wooseok turned the kitchen and living room light on. Yanan moved to the kitchen sink, washing his hands. He did it until the water ran clear, then wiped his face clean.

 

His skin was wet, catching in the light of the kitchen. “Is this better?” he asked, looking defeated.

 

Wooseok sat on the couch, his knees pulled close together. He looked up at Yanan. “Your clothes,” he said quietly, staring at the dried blood on his jeans.

 

Yanan rolled his eyes with a shrug, and shook his head. He disappeared into his room, but for Wooseok’s sake, was back before the loneliness could set in. When he came back, he had on a pair of plaid pajama pants, a black t-shirt in his hands. His bare skin was pale, devoid of blemishes. Wooseok was pretty sure he was never going to get used to how nonchalantly Yanan changed in front of him. But Yanan looked clean—pure, almost. “Fine,” he sighed. “There’s no blood on me, now. Will you talk to me?”

 

“Alright,” Wooseok said, looking up at Yanan.

 

Wooseok’s chin was resting on his knees, but Yanan sat close enough for their sides to be flush. “I’m sorry,” he said, putting a hand on the taller man’s knee. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

Wooseok slumped on the couch. “You said you weren’t going to scare me, anymore.” He was scared of Yanan. He’d _always_ been afraid of Yanan. From the very moment he’d laid eyes on him.

 

“I’m trying,” Yanan said without hesitation. “I’m really trying not to scare you, but you have to meet me in the middle sometimes, alright?”

 

Wooseok felt like he was shrinking under Yanan’s gaze, as kind as it was. “I’m sorry I followed you. We just didn’t talk all day, so I—”

 

“You missed me?” Yanan interrupted, the traces of a smile on his face. He raised his eyebrows in amusement.

 

Wooseok frowned, looking away from the demon’s face. “I don’t know,” he pouted, clasping his hands in his lap. He didn’t _miss_ Yanan. “It’s boring being alone all day,” he said. “Usually you’re out here.”

 

Yanan’s smile widened into a real one, and he ruffled the angel’s hair. “You did miss me. If you miss me, just tell me. Don’t follow me in the middle of the night.”

 

Wooseok nodded. “Sorry.”

 

Yanan stood, a hand on the top of Wooseok’s head. “It’s fine,” he said. The corners of his mouth were turned up. All Wooseok could thing about was the blood dripping out of the man’s mouth. “Goodnight, Wooseok.”

 

Yanan was halfway to his room when Wooseok shot off of the couch. His heart was beating loudly. “Yanan.”

 

“Yeah?” the demon said, turning to look at Wooseok.

 

The angel swallowed hard. He could feel his eyes welling up with tears, again. “I really don’t want to be alone, right now.” He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Yanan was trong enough to put his hand through someone without breaking a sweat. Yet, here he had been, comforting Wooseok on the couch. Ever since Wooseok fell, nothing seemed to make any sense at all.

 

“Hey, don’t cry,” Yanan said, his voice softer than the angel had ever heard it. He took a few steps bac to Wooseok, grabbing both of his hands with his own. “I won’t hurt you, angel. You know that.”

 

Wooseok nodded, but it was too late. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, his lower lip quivering.

 

“Come here,” Yanan said, pulling Wooseok into his spread arms. Wooseok sniffled and wrapped his long arms around the demon. Yanan squeezed Wooseok tight, a few more sobs shaking the angel’s form. “That’s better, right?”

 

Wooseok’s face was buried in the demon’s shoulder, tears dampening the fabric of his t-shirt. Yanan was warm. He was comfortable. He was hugging Wooseok, and even though he was a demon, and Wooseok was an angel, he liked it. A lot.

 

When Wooseok pulled away, he wiped his cheeks with his fingers. “Thank you.”

 

Yanan cleared his throat and stepped away. “Right,” he said, moving towards his room. “Do you want to sleep with me?”

 

Wooseok felt his ears get hot. “What?”

 

Yanan rolled his eyes, coughing out a laugh. “Not like that, you baby. If I’m trying to have sex with you, you’ll know. Do you want to sleep in my bed with me?”

 

Wooseok really didn’t want to be alone. “Sure.”

 

Yanan’s shoulders relaxed. “Okay,” he breathed out. “If you steal all of the blankets, I’ll push you off. And try not to cuddle me in your sleep, I’m not one of your pillows.”

 

Wooseok let himself smile, just a little. “I can’t control what I do in my sleep,” he pointed out, following Yanan into the bedroom. He toed off his shoes and practically jumped under the covers. Living on earth made Wooseok understand how tired crying made him.

 

Yanan looked at him for a moment, and shook his head in amusement. “I can’t believe how pure you are.” He shoved his shoes off, kicking them to the corner of the room.

 

Wooseok blinked his yes at the demon. “What do you mean?”

 

Yanan sat in the bed, next to Wooseok. He slid his legs under the covers. “You’re pure,” he said simply. “I haven’t met an angel before, so I’ve never seen someone as pure as you. You’re like a newborn baby.”

 

Wooseok sat up so he could get a better look at Yanan. “How can you tell?” Even though he was living with Yanan, he still didn’t know a lot about demons. He didn’t know if Yanan could actually tell, or if it was his intuition.

 

“It’s easy to see,” the demon responded. He put his phone on the nightstand next to the bed, eyes flickering on something opposite of the anfel. “The people I kill are grey, or black, or a putrid green, or red like blood. But you’re… blank. Solid white. You’re innocent, more than anyone I’ve ever seen.

 

“I’m not innocent,” Wooseok said, shaking his head. “I fell from Heaven, there’s no way I’m completely pure.” He knew he wasn’t holy, because he fell. The only truly perfect beings were the ones who remained there. Someone who was damned wasn’t pure. Wooseok knew that much.

 

Yanan sighed, and looked down at the angel. “Look, kid, I don’t know what you did—you don’t have to tell me—but whatever it was, it was barely anything. It was like a mosquito bite, just a tiny blemish on your record. You’re still too damned pure for your own good.” Yanan slid down the bed, until he was completely lying down. It felt warm, under the blankets. Yanan was a really warm person.

 

“It’s just one thing, but it’s still something,” Wooseok argued. There was still a blemish on his record. “I’m still—”

 

“Okay,” Yanan said quickly. “You’re the purest person I’ve ever seen, and I’ve really seen it all. I don’t know if that helps, but you are. So.”

 

Wooseok smiled. “That does help a little bit. Thank you.”

 

Yanan smiled right back. His eyes crinkled into crescents when he smiled, the apples of his cheeks rounder. “Good. Now go to sleep, kid. I won’t even shut the lights off.”

 

“Thank you,” Wooseok repeated, settling into the mattress. “Goodnight.” That was one of Wooseok’s favourite things he’d learned on earth. He liked wishing someone—only Yanan, so far—a good night.

 

Yanan closed his eyes. “Night, angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, and we hope to see all of you when we get our next update posted!

**Author's Note:**

> Instagram:  
> pixieyutoda - roseyuto  
> edawnings - woooseook


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